Just Because I Have Known You All My Life
by save.all.the.unicorns
Summary: Doesn't mean I like you. Clove and Cato have known each other their entire life. But they have never acknowledged each other and have hardly talked. When they both get chosen to enter the Hunger Games, things get interesting. Clove/Cato Rated T for course language and because its THG
1. Chapter 1

**So this is my first ever fanfic. Ever. Why I decided to do this? Because of all the Clato feels. Oh my god. **

**God I love Cato and Clove so much it kills me. I had to write a story after reading all these amazing other fanfics about the 2. Oh god. The Clato feelings.**

**Sorry that Cato doesn't come out much in this chapter. He will in the next! I promise!**

**Thank you for reading (or deciding to read) it means so much to me **

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games or these fabulous characters. Suzanne Collins does.**

* * *

She had known him for as long as she could remember.

Not in a friendly way.

Not in a special way.

And _certainly_ not in a romantic sort of way.

She just _knew_ him. Knew his name; knew that he existed; knew that he knew her in the exact same way.

She just knew him. And that was it. There was nothing more, and nothing less.

She didn't exactly remember when she first saw him. It might have been when they were born; it might have been when they were three, maybe even when they were five. But she knew that wasn't the case, as she remembered vividly how that day had been, what he had done, and how she recognized him in that training centre from the moment he stood up.

That was how long he had been in her life. And that was how long _she_ had been in _his_ life.

Despite this, they had never acknowledged one another. Never. Never a nod of the head, never a small 'hello'. If their eyes ever met across a room or even on the street, they would look away as if they had seen nothing. As if they had seen no one.

That was how it always was.

And that was how Clove Lockwood liked it.

And she knew that was how Cato Thorman liked it too.

* * *

Clove opened her eyes from sleep. She felt wonderful, which was an extremely strange sensation, as in normal circumstances Clove would have a knife to the throat of anyone who woke her from her sleep, in less than a second. Even if that was her father, or her sister, or even her mother.

_No_, she thought bitterly. Especially_ if it was her_.

She had never recovered her relationship with her mother since that day, since that dark and gruesome day. And she vowed that she never would. Never could and never should.

Instead of the usual scowl that was on her face in the morning, Clove got up with a somewhat amused expression as she headed for the shower. She stripped off and stepped into the shower cubicle as the water automatically turned on and the wonderful hot water was immediately spraying her body. It had a sensor that sensed the body temperature of a human and would turn on at the exact heat that it was set to turn onto. It was an item that wasn't too common. It wasn't because it was unpopular or people thought it was useless. It was mainly because of the cost.

The Lockwood's were able to afford these items because they were a wealthy family. Clove's father ran one of the businesses in District Two, which was significantly one of the biggest.

Of course, being one of the Capitol's favourite Districts, they were never under the threat of poverty in the first place. Very much unlike the districts such as Eleven and Twelve.

They always had enough food to feed themselves, always had enough money to even feed _other_ people, and they always had enough money to train.

There was no need to put in your name for tessarae in District Two.

Firstly, because you didn't need to.

And secondly, nobody bothered to put their names in extra times, when someone was always going to volunteer.

District Two was a career District.

Meaning that the District trained teenagers from the age of twelve to eighteen, so that they would be suitable for the Games. So that they would be strong enough for the Games. So that they would be confident in the Games.

So that they would be able to _kill_ in the games.

Although it was illegal to train for the Games, the Capitol overlooked this fact because having Careers meant that they would be powerful. They would be deadly. They would enjoy killing. They would make the Games so much more _fun_.

Clove smirked at the thought of that. The thought of being able to entertain the Capitol whilst killing the tributes, even her district partner, was an electrifying feeling, and she shuddered at the excitement.

Of course they would form alliances with the other Career Districts. Especially One. Which Clove didn't mind of course; it didn't change the fact that they were going to die by her hands. By her knife, slitting their throats and peeling of their skin as they screamed in agony. Just the thought of it brought a smile to her lips.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.

She looked to the door with an irritated expression before pulling on her training uniform. Today, of course, would be the start of _real_ training for the Games with _real_ weapons and with people who could actually_ dodge_ her knives. Although Clove knew there would be nobody who could do that.

She _never_ misses.

Which was why _she _was going to be the best at the training centre, and _she _was going to volunteer at the reaping, and _she_ was going to win the Hunger Games. Of course, the mentors wouldn't let the trainees use real weapons against each other. As heartless as they were, they didn't want anyone dying from measly training.

Clove sighed and went to the door. She opened it just as her mother had turned her back and started walking. Clove couldn't hide her scowl as she followed her down the stairs.

* * *

'Good morning and welcome to the _real_ training day my future Careers!' A bright, excited voice rang out and Clove rolled her eyes.

She was sick of that bright and loud voice of Taron Reesor, the Head Mentor of the training centre. It was something that gave her enough reason to throw a few knives into his skull. She was seriously on the brink of doing exactly that when he had stated the other day that her knife-throwing skills were not 'up to the Games standard'.

She was so furious at that statement that it took absolutely every bit of will power not to thrust the knife in her hand deeply into his throat.

Clove was one of the greatest knife-throwers there _ever_ were in this District, and she knew it as well as he did. The fact that he said it as though she would die in the Games if she were at this level, absolutely infuriated her.

The only thing that stopped her from killing him (as well as her extreme will power) was the fact that Taron was extremely skilled in _any_ sort of fighting style. He was the only one who could beat the strongest male trainee in hand-to-hand combat, as well as beat him in his sword-fighting skills. He could use spears, javelins, bows and arrows; even his knife-throwing skills were exceptional.

He participated in the Games thirteen years ago when he was only fourteen and won fully because even it was a twig of a branch, it instantly became deadly when Taron had it in his hands. Even the tribute from District Four with his trident was no match against Taron, as no matter how skilled he was, Taron was just that much better and of course, he too was able to use a trident.

Clove _did_ have a small sense of admiration for that power. For her, even though the trainees here were specially selected to come to this training centre today, the majority of them were still pathetic and weak. She was sure they would be down in three seconds if forced to face her, and as much as it annoyed her to think this, Taron could probably take them down in less than one. Of course, he was Head Mentor so she didn't think of this as much a big deal; it would have been horrible if even the Head Mentor was not a match for Clove.

There were those few exceptions though. Just that small number of trainees who were the same level as her, or maybe even higher.

Clove glanced around the room where everyone was standing, trying to catch a glimpse of the _real_ trainees. She was short and relatively small so it was a little bit of a struggle, but eventually she caught sight of a few 'future Careers'. She smirked.

At least fighting _them_ would be entertaining.

She turned her attention back to Taron.

'I'll be splitting you guys up in gender and age group to see how much you've developed your skills from the last time you trained. Ah, and before you groan or threaten to kill me, this is just to see what level you're going to fit into, alright? I'm not judging you already. After all, you all didn't make it here with no skill at all, right?' Taron sent a cheesy wink in the trainees' direction, which some people sniggered to, but most people kept their faces blank.

Taron sighed.

'You guys really have no sense of humour do you?' he said.

Clove snorted and a few people looked this way.

_We come here and train to fucking _kill_ people, idiot,_ she thought. _Not to have fun and make lot's of friends_.

Taron dismissed them with a wave of the hand and everyone started to assemble them selves.

Clove was sixteen. She wasn't exactly young, but was definitely the youngest when she had first stepped into the training centre eleven years ago. Everybody had underestimated her because of how young she was and because of her innocent look, but throwing a few fake knives into the twenty-something dummies shut them up quite quickly.

She had become somewhat the centre of attention at that stage, and even to this day many of the trainees feared her because of her skills and her bloodlust.

'Ah, Clove. Seeing as you seem to be the most experienced here, why don't you go first?' A woman in her thirties with her hair in a tight bun asked Clove as she entered the forming circle of girls. This woman was the mentor of their group and she was most definitely not afraid of Clove.

This irritated her. Apart from Taron, almost _every_ adult feared her.

She put on an obnoxious smile.

'It would be my pleasure,' she said sweetly and walked over to the weapon stand.

There were countless numbers of weapons. Spears, swords, javelins, arrows, tridents, whips, canes and of course, knives.

Clove smiled and took three knives off the table. Feeling the familiar weight in her hands excited her and she turned around to face the ten dummies while twirling the knife between her fingers. She heard people swallow behind her, which gave her an immense amount of satisfaction. Everyone here today did not necessarily come from the same training centre, so there were many that knew her name, definitely, but did not know about her skills.

Clove threw her knife.

It cut through the air with precision and struck the heart of the furthest dummy. A perfect bullseye.

She heard people gasp and she smirked.

She threw the other two while picking up three knives from the table behind her, throwing them in different directions, not even bothering to check if they had hit. She picked up the remaining four knives, putting two in each hand and simultaneously sent them piercing through the air.

In less then ten seconds, all ten dummies had a knife piercing their hearts.

Clove turned around in satisfaction as the girls gaped at her. Even her mentor looked surprised.

'Thank you,' she said and turned around to leave.

This was not the level she should be at. People gaping at her because of this. All she had done was _throw_ them. She had not slashed anything; cut anything open; pierced the knife through someone's skull. No. She had thrown them and they were all looking at her as though they had never seen anything that amazing. She shook her head. This was a waste of time. She wanted something _challenging_.

Clove whipped her head around to the sound of gasps and murmurs.

It was coming from the direction of the male trainees. Plucking the knife out of one of the dummies as she walked, Clove set her gaze on the male trainee that was the cause of the murmurs.

He was chopping the dummies heads off with his right hand, while stabbing the dummy behind him with his left. He wasn't even looking behind him as he did this, but the sword pierced its heart with the precision of Clove's knives.

Her eyes instantly narrowed.

Cato Thorman.

He was the eighteen-year-old male trainee; the best trainee out of all the training centers and was rumoured to be the one to volunteer for the upcoming Hunger Games. He was tall with a well-built body, _extremely _handsome with blond hair and electrifying blue eyes. Half of the girls were crazy about him although he never returned the feelings they had. Like Clove, he was only brought up to kill and win the Hunger Games.

He slashed at three dummies splitting them in half all at once, and used both swords to stab the forehead and the heart of the remaining one.

Cato smirked as the rest of the group sat there staring at him. With a snap of his wrist he pulled the swords out of the dummy as wool fell out, and returned them to the table.

Clove heard him thank the mentor sarcastically and turned around shaking his head, still with the smirk on his face. She didn't realize he was looking at her until she raised her gaze and his electric blue eyes met her dark brown ones. They stood there for a while; Cato still flexing his hands from holding the swords, and Clove twirling the knife in hers.

Eventually, they broke their gaze at the same time and averted their eyes to the other trainees.

* * *

**So I hope you guys enjoyed it! Well it's only the first chapter so it's not that exciting. Man am I looking forward to completing this! Sorry if my chapters don't come very quick! I will be juggling with school so please don't be too harsh on me *innocent smile***

**Thanks for reading! :)**

**It would boost my self esteem HEAPS if you guys reviewed ;)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you so much for the reviews guys! You actually made me the happiest asian there ever was. I think I'm in love with you already :)**

**So Cato actually talks in this chapter. And there's definitely more talking than the last one. Sorry it's shortish. I promise the next one will be longer! (Hopefully anyway)**

**This was a very fun chapter to write ;)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games.**

* * *

The sound of weapons slicing the air and the woosh of wind was coming from all around the centre. There were a few gasps and murmurs as well as some sniggering, but overall the training centre was quiet.

There were four groups on either side of the centre that were split up in gender. They were made up of the twelve to thirteen year olds, the fourteen to fifteen year olds, the sixteen to seventeen year olds, and the eighteen year olds. The reason the eighteen year olds were put into a group on their own wasn't necessarily because of the amount of people they had. But rather because they were the oldest and the most experienced; therefore the strongest there was out of everyone here.

Of course, like Clove, there were the few exceptions that had amazing skills that were reaching the standard of the older trainees, but overall, they were the ones who usually volunteered and came back winning the Games.

Both Clove and Cato were standing in the middle of the centre, looking around at the other trainees. They were not exactly standing together, but they didn't really have a reason to return to their groups either. Neither of their mentors had come after them and asked them to stay, therefore meaning that they had nothing to teach.

Clove looked down at her knife. She could carry on throwing them at the dummies on her own, as knife throwing _was_ her skill. But she thought this process may be a little bit tedious, considering she had already 'killed' ten dummies in ten seconds just before, and increasing the number of them was really not going to help her in anyway.

She sighed. The only thing that changed from the other training centers was the fact that they were able to use real weapons, but that was about it. There was nothing exciting or challenging, and that was _exactly_ what Clove was expecting to find here.

She shot Cato a sideways glance. To her surprise, he was looking at her too, and before she could say anything, with a nod of the head he gestured in the direction of the sixteen to seventeen-year-old female group, so Clove shifted her gaze there as well.

There was a sound of a weapon slicing through the air, and a javelin pierced through three dummies just meters away from the two.

Clove raised her eyebrows. Now that was a skill that not many people had.

She looked towards the person who had thrown it, and couldn't help a little smirk.

Sera Luhman. She was seventeen years old, quite tall with dark blonde hair that came down to her waist, and dark green eyes that would catch your gaze and hold it there, telling you that she was not the nicest person. That was to be expected of course, nobody with a sweet and naïve personality would _ever_ make it here, let alone get the chance to volunteer for the Games. She was _incredibly_ pretty and very vain, and Clove was sure that she had gotten with at least ten guys in this past week.

Despite this, she was one of the few people Clove considered as an enemy, as just as she had performed, her javelin skills were as exceptional as Cato's swords and Clove's knives. Like Cato, she moved with the javelin as though it was part of her body, and like Clove, she could pierce or throw the javelin through the heart with absolute precision.

As her group stood there speechless, Sera did a small curtsy and returned her javelin to the table. As she turned, she spotted Clove and Cato looking at her and gave them a sweet smile. Swaying her hips she strode towards them and Clove raised her eyebrows at the same time Cato swept his gaze up and down her body.

Clove rolled her eyes. No matter how uninterested he seemed to be, boys would be boys.

'Well, I can't say I'm surprised to see you two here,' Sera said as she stopped in front of them. 'How come you two aren't at your groups? I'm pretty sure they haven't finished yet, you know.'

Cato snorted.

'Does it look like I need that bullshit? Because if you think I do, I'd cut your pretty face of your fucking neck right now,' he said with a smile on his face. It was a sweet smile but both Sera and Clove knew exactly what was beneath it.

Sera laughed, and it sounded like little bells ringing together.

'I could stab you twice before your sword even touched me, sweetheart,' she replied and grazed her fingertips along his jaw line. Before Cato could say anything, Clove whirled the knife in her hand and pressed it to Sera's neck.

'And you would be dead before you even said the 'I' in that sentence, sweetheart,' she said equally as sweetly as Sera. Sera narrowed her eyes at the same time Cato let out a laugh.

Clove gave him a look.

'And you would have at least three knives embedded into your skull, so I wouldn't look to happy if I were you,' she said. Cato didn't change his expression as he reached out and grabbed Clove's wrist.

He tightened his grip as Clove let out a small yelp, and smirked.

'And I don't think I would get too cocky just because of a few knives, if I were you,' he mocked.

Clove glared at him and twirled the knife around in her hand so it was facing Cato's arm. The tip touched the flesh on his arm, and dug in ever so slightly, releasing a small read bubble of blood. Sera raised her eyebrows and stepped back as if she was about to watch an amusing show. Cato shifted his gaze to the blade.

'If you don't want this stuck in your arm, you should let go,' Clove said. His grip was so tight she swore she could hear her bones cracking, but Clove was determined not to show the pain on her face.

Cato looked at her for a while longer, still with the smirk on his face, but eventually released her wrist. He leaned down so that they were face to face, and Clove could feel his breath tickling her cheek.

'How determined you are to not show your emotions. But maybe you should work on it a bit more, _sweetheart_.'

The knife was at his neck before he even realized what was going on. The smirk from his face faded slightly and he captured Clove's wrist once more, as she dug the point of the blade into his soft skin.

Blood started trickling down his neck, and she was again feeling the agonizing pain, but neither Cato nor Clove moved their position. Sera was still watching them with an amused expression, obviously not planning to intervene.

They stared each other down. Clove could see her face in his electrifying blue eyes, telling her that he must be seeing his face in hers. She could easily push the knife into his neck and end him now. He could easily snap her wrists in half. But still, they didn't move.

They were finally broken apart by the voice of Taron.

'Cato! Clove! What are you two doing?' he shouted from the other side of the room. They simultaneously turned their heads (Cato with a little bit of difficulty) as Taron headed towards them with an exasperated expression.

'When a mentor dismisses you, it doesn't mean you can start up a fight whenever you want with whoever you want, alright? You either stay where you are and watch everyone else, or you train individually. _Individually_,' Taron said, his green eyes blazing.

Clove scowled, still with the knife at Cato's throat.

'What's the point of doing training when you can throw knives better than your fucking _mentor_?' she spat.

'This is not about how good you are at your skill Clove,' Taron spat back. 'I don't give one _fuck_ whether your mentor is weaker than you. _I'm_ the Head Mentor, which means _you_ abide by _my_ rules. You fail to do that and you're out of here. Got it sugerpie?'

Clove gritted her teeth but before she could do anything, Cato pushed her wrists towards her, and let them go. She staggered backwards as he stepped forwards Taron and jabbed his finger to his chest.

'If you expect us to just sit there and watch those _fucking_ weaklings do their shit, I might as well cut open you fucking head and fill it with someone else's brain, because I'm not doing _any_ of this bullshit if I'm not allowed to actually _fight_ people,' he hissed.

Taron looked steadily back at him. Cato was definitely taller then Taron by quite a few centimeters, but Taron had an atmosphere around him that told people to back off. No matter how bubbly and bright he sounded, when talking to him, you subconsciously stepped back to create space between the two of you. Just in case he ever attacked you with no warning whatsoever.

That was exactly what happened to Cato.

Taron grabbed Cato's arm and bent it backwards, just enough to cause him pain but not enough to seriously hurt him. Cato yelled out as Taron kicked his legs from beneath him and sent him hurtling to the floor. There was a loud _thud_ and everyone in the training centre turned to the four people in the middle of the room.

Taron bent down while still holding Cato's arm, and looked him in the face.

'One more swear word from you, Thorman, and you're out of here. Got it?' It was his usual bright voice, but it held a definite ring, leaving Cato with nothing to say.

Taron lifted his gaze and fixed it on Clove.

'You too, Lockwood. Just because you two may be the strongest around here, doesn't mean you get to do what you want. I don't want you two doing anything that breaks the rules in this centre, because one more false move and I bet you that you won't be getting that volunteering chance,' he turned back to Cato. 'And I presume you _especially_ wouldn't want that, Cato, because this is your _last_ chance.'

Cato growled and Clove glared at Taron, but he simply let go of Cato's arm and turned around to face the other trainees.

'Sorry for the disruption future Careers! Let's have a break shall we? You can go to the toilet or get some food and drink, but be back here in half an hour,' he smiled sweetly. 'Dismissed!'

* * *

**Thanks for reading :) I hope you found this one more exciting than the first.**

**Oh, just to clarify. Clove didn't thrust the knife at Sera because she was jealous or anything. She was just irritated that Sera acted as though she was the strongest when Clove obviously was (well I'm sure there's a few different opinions there. But meh)**

**If there's anything you don't quite understand or you want to ask me something please feel free! **

**(You would make me even happier if you reviewed :D)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you guys once again for the reviews! And thank you so much for everyone who favourited my story! You guys are totally awesome. **

**So this one is definitely longer than the last one. Sorry it might get a little tedious but the story will move from the next chapter!**

**Oh and there's a lot more talking :)**

* * *

Clove walked around plucking her knives from the dummies.

It seemed as though the training centre had an infinite supply of dummies as they continuously kept rolling in and out of the room. Unlike Cato's swords or Sera's javelins, knife throwing didn't necessarily make the dummies completely unusable, so Clove had ten dummies to herself. Of course, she could slash at them and cut them open if she wanted to, but as much as that was enjoyable, Clove figured that could wait until she threw a few more knives into them.

She glanced to her right. Cato was whirling a sword around and stabbing it continuously into a dummy. He was frustrated that the training was so pathetic, and overall furious with how Taron had taken him down so easily. He had no time to react, which was extremely rare for Cato, but what was more, he wasn't able to fight back.

Cato was, without doubt, the strongest trainee out of everyone at this centre. He was powerful, vicious, held no mercy, and he was proud. He had pride in his power, so being taken down so easily, was something that his pride did not easily forgive.

Clove looked at him with contempt. How entertaining it was, to watch the strongest trainee get taken down in two seconds.

'Having fun there, Clove?'

She turned to the sound of her name. Sera was standing with her arms crossed, with an entertained expression on her face. No doubt that she had enjoyed every bit of what had just happened.

'What do you want?' Clove replied coldly before turning back to her knives.

They knew each other for sure, but they had never been on friendly terms and Clove didn't recall ever being called by her name.

As if this reaction was expected, Sera just smiled.

'Just here to chat.'

Clove snorted.

'Cut the bullshit. You and I both know we don't like each other, so I'll ask you again. What do you want?' Her last word was forceful as she sent a two knives sailing through the air. They pierced the forehead and the heart of the dummy perfectly, and Clove smiled.

Sera let her gaze follow the knives before she replied.

'Well, that's a way to be blunt. Alright then. I have a suggestion,' she smiled sweetly. It would have been the kind of smile that made her fans crazy. But it was the sort of smile that Clove hated her for. She felt like she was looking at a beautiful person with a blood covered knife hiding behind her back.

'And what could that possibly be?' she asked. Sera's smile broadened.

'Seeing as you want to train with your knives, and I want to train with my javelins, I thought we should have,' she paused. 'A little session,' another pause. '_Properly_.'

Clove narrowed her eyes. 'And you're planning to accomplish this how? I'm sure you're not stupid enough to have heard what Taron said, and think we could train here and now.'

'Please. I was planning _after_ hours at the training centre. God, who do you think I am?' Sera asked.

_A dumb bitch. That's for sure,_ Clove thought but didn't say it out loud.

'Look, Sera,' Clove kept the nastiness in her voice, even though she hesitated slightly before saying Sera's name. It sounded unnatural, even to Clove's own ears. Sera obviously picked up this hesitation as she raised her eyebrows amusingly. That was another thing Clove disliked about this girl. She found _anything_ that made people uncomfortable, thoroughly amusing.

'As much as I would like to throw knives at your pretty face, I would rather value my volunteering chance,' she sneered. 'Taron's already given me enough shit for a day, and I don't think I want to get on his bad side and lose this chance, because, in case you didn't know, _I'm_ the closest to that chance at the moment.'

Sera's expression changed at the mention of volunteering. It was like applying a drop of black to a white surface. Her face immediately turned into a scowl.

'You're pathetic and _stupid_. One little warning from the Head Mentor and you're backing off from you're chance of _real_ training?' she spat.

Clove twirled the knife in her hand twice, before pointing the blade at Sera's neck.

'No. The pathetic one is the dick behind me who got thrown down in two seconds,' obviously listening to the whole conversation, Cato snapped his head up at the mention of him, and glared so fiercely at Clove it would have made anybody else tremble in fear. She didn't react. 'And the stupid one is _you_. Taron's not a fucking dumbass. He's the Head Mentor for a reason. You're obviously not the first person to think of that stupid fucking plan, so he's obviously there to stop people like _you_ doing stupid things like _that_,' she spat it so acidly Sera nearly cringed back. But her pride stopped her.

She gritted her teeth and tried to say something but before she could, Taron's voice rose from the entrance.

'Back to your groups guys! The real training starts now!'

* * *

Clove Lockwood and Cato Thorman had known each other their entire life. However, they had never acknowledged each other and had hardly talked. Though, they knew each other well, and were certainly aware of each other's skills and what they were capable of.

Although Clove didn't remember, and Cato most likely didn't remember either, the first time they met was when she was two and Cato was four. Both of them were from wealthy families and had received training pretty much since they were born, so many people had cast the spotlight on them since they first touched their weapons. They were called child prodigies, and everyone was _so_ sure that _they_ would be the ones to go into the Hunger Games and win.

And both Clove and Cato believed that too.

Which was why, for Clove (and probably Cato who was eavesdropping) Sera's suggestion _was_ extremely tempting. Clove had had enough of this 'training' bullshit and wanted to have the thrill and excitement of getting to actually _hurt_ someone. Killing someone was probably not such a good idea, though she couldn't guarantee that she wouldn't get carried away after hurting someone like she could. But again, there would be plenty of time for that in the arena.

She was craving for blood. She wanted to pierce something or cut something open and hear the agonizing screams that rip through the air as she cut of layer by layer of skin.

She wanted to be in the Games _so _badly.

_But_, she thought, thinking back to the day that made her hate her mother so much. _Not _just_ for myself and my District_.

The voice of Taron interrupted her thoughts.

'As you all know, we have a ranking for the trainees who are the closest to getting the volunteering chance for the Reaping. This is judged mostly on how much strength and skill you have, as well as being able to think sensibly and rationally. No matter how strong you are, if you're a dumbass, you won't be getting the chance,' he said. Sniggers were heard throughout the room, which Taron ignored completely.

'Of course,' he continued. 'There won't be people like that in this room, as we've specially picked you guys from all the training centers around the District, but there is always the top of the top.'

A few murmurs resounded in the room as Clove knit her eyebrows together. She saw Sera put on a confused expression and Cato looked slightly puzzled.

Where was he going with this?

'I believe it is still the first day but judging from how things have gone today, and how you guys were judged back at your old training centers, we already have a ranking set, just to get you guys competitive with each other,' Taron smiled, and the trainees broke out into excited voices.

Clove smirked. At last _something_ that was worth the wait. She would be, without doubt, one of the top people on the ranking. Judging from how Taron had said it, the ranking would probably change throughout the next month until the reaping, if the other trainees were able to surpass the top trainees.

Which was highly unlikely of course.

'Well, then!' Taron shouted over the buzzing voices of the trainees and opened up a piece of paper. 'I'm only introducing the top three so you guys can have a idea of how good you need to be! So, as tradition, ladies first.' There were a few snickers after hearing the familiar words that were always spoken at the reaping.

'The third on the ranking is Kamilia Satton!'

There was murmuring among the applause as Kamilia, a girl with black hair and hazel eyes smiled slightly. She was eighteen which automatically made her a strong smart fighter. She was extremely skilled with finding the pressure points in human bodies. Letting her near you would be the worst decision you make of your life, as she could take you down with two jabs of the fingers.

She didn't seem too upset that she was third although she didn't seem overly happy. There was no doubt she would've liked to be higher, as it was her last year of reaping, but maybe she didn't expect to be that high up, or maybe because she knew she would be able to surpass the other top two in the next month.

Taron continued.

'In second place, is… Ah, not surpsrising, Sera Luhman!'

There was a loud applause this time. Probably from all of her fans around the centre and from some of the mentors too. She had always been a favourite. People sent her glances (that weren't all happy) as she smiled and waved. But Clove could see that her expression was slightly tight. She expected to be first, and was not happy.

Clove smirked again as she looked expectantly at Taron. The noise in the centre had died down significantly, as Taron rustled the piece of paper.

'The first shouldn't come as much of a surprise I suppose,' he sighed. 'As your top ranker in the female list, is Clove Lockwood!'

Clove couldn't hide her grin as an even louder round of applause broke out and people sent her an equal amount of filthy looks as happy looks.

It was to be expected. Even though everyone here knew how good Clove's knife-throwing skills were, it didn't mean they exactly admired her for it. Let alone like her for it. If you knew her personality, it would make people dislike her more.

Clove didn't mind that at all. She didn't exactly like people that much herself, so it didn't bother her at all.

It didn't matter anyway, because she was at the top of the list.

_She_ was going to get into the Hunger Games. The feeling was exhilarating.

'This isn't a surprise either, as the first on the male list is Cato Thorman!'

Clove's face snapped up to the voice of Taron and she heard Cato's woop and the loudest sound of cheering and applause.

Unlike Clove, Cato was more liked. Even though he was ruthless, vicious, and bloodlust like Clove, it didn't change the fact that he was admired strongly. He had the hugest grin on his face that just made Clove roll her eyes.

Taron had to shout over the voice of everyone even louder than before as he shouted out his last words.

'These are your top six trainees folks! I know you're all capable of beating them if you wanted to! So I expect this ranking to change over the next four weeks! If not, the volunteers will be Cato and Clove!'

Clove smiled as she let this reality sink into the other trainees.

Oh, no one was going to beat her. Nobody had been able to _ever_ beat Clove since she was five. She was already on a different level to everyone else and she was absolutely confident that _she_ would be the one volunteering for the Games in four more weeks.

She looked over at Cato who had the exact same expression. It was filled with satisfaction and triumph. The announcing of the ranking pretty much already told everyone who was going to win, and who was going to get to _kill_.

Clove and Cato smirked at the same time.

Everybody including themselves knew that nobody would be able to beat them and it would be Clove Lockwood and Cato Thorman that would be seen in the next Hunger Games that were happening in two more months.

And they were right.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! The next chapter will actually move further at last! And there will be a lot more Clato interaction ;) (Hopefully anyway)**

**By the way, Sera's just your typical bitchy character so I don't think she will come out much after this... meh. Maybe she might. I dunno.**

**Once again thank you for the reviews and keep them coming! I actually get so excited when I see that I've got reviews! :D**

**P.S I just re-read the Hunger Games and all I could think about was Clato Clato Clato Clato Clato. I think I need to read something else soon.**

**P.P.S I'll be having school so the next chapter might come later! Sorry!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you for the reviews guys! Man you guys are awesome. For the two of you guys who said to update quickly, I'm sorry I took a while! I can't promise that my next one will come quickly either... I'm sorry but please understand :)**

**So things didn't go quite as planned. It's sort of gruesome and there's a lot of swearing going on so be careful on reading!**

**Ok. This time I promise things will go further in the next chapter! (But this one was really fun to write. Not gonna lie)**

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Clove cocked her head to the side as a javelin whizzed past her ear and dug into the ground with a loud thud. She turned around lazily, only to be met by the blazing dark green eyes of Sera Luhman. Her usually beautiful features were twisted into a scowl at the fact that Clove had anticipated her attack easily and also just overall at the state at hand.

They were both standing in the training centre but most of the lights were off. It was the last day of training, after hours and nobody but them was to be seen. In fact, Clove had thought it was only her that was there training, until she narrowly dodged Sera's sudden jab. It would have wounded her fatally if she hadn't heard Sera's clothing rustle.

They were facing each other; Sera with a menacing scowl, and Clove with a calm, almost triumph look.

Of course, Sera was angry for a very simple reason.

It had been exactly one month since the ranking had been read out to all the trainees.

And nobody's spot had changed.

'You _bitch_, Lockwood,' Sera spat.

'Oh? Not on first name basis anymore? What a shame. I was warming up to it, you know,' Clove smiled as Sera looked even more infuriated.

'Shut up!' she said furiously. 'I was two points, _two points_ away from being first on the list! And _you_ had to come along and ruin it all!' she yelled.

The ranking hadn't changed. That meant that Sera was not going to be in the seventy-fourth Hunger Games. It was more than infuriating, as Sera had trained all her life to be a Career. That wasn't different for any of the other trainees of course, but Sera had been a prodigy, much like Clove and Cato, and many people were convinced that she was going to win. She was told that she could have the chance to volunteer at the age of fourteen, but she had been narrowly missing all of these chances.

And since she was fourteen, she had been head-to-head with Clove, no matter how much Clove had denied it. Which was why Sera was determined to win. She was _going_ to win.

But all of her dreams were sliding further and further away from her, at the incredible improvement that Clove had shown over the months.

And she had had to accept the fact when Taron had read out the rankings at the end of the day.

She had to accept that she would miss out on volunteering, yet again.

Because of Clove Lockwood.

'Do you know how _hard_ I've worked for this! Do you know how many people have been expecting _me _to be in these Games! I've been throwing those fucking javelins for _ten fucking years_!' she was practically screaming in Clove's face, but Clove's expression didn't change at all.

She simply smiled.

'Well, I've been throwing my knives for eleven. Looks like I beat you in _that_ area as well,' she said.

Sera's dark green eyes blazed furiously as she let out a high-pitched screech and pulled the javelin out of the ground. She thrust the javelin point hard at Clove's heart, but she only managed to cut her on the left-hand side of the body as Clove swung herself to the right. Usually Clove hated the fact that she was small, but just this once she smiled slightly and appreciated the agility that her small frame provided. She would have been fatally wounded, maybe dead if it hadn't been for her quick reflex.

After all, Sera Luhman wasn't second for nothing.

Sera screamed as she pulled the javelin out of the ground again.

'_Fuck you_, Lockwood! Fuck you and your_ fucking knives_! All this time _I_ was the star in training! _I_ was the one who was going to win and bring glory to our district! It was going to be _me_!' She grabbed another javelin from the stand and directed it at Clove who had one knee to the ground and was clutching the side of her body. She quickly got up and ran towards the dummies that had her knives stabbed into them.

But Sera was determined not to let Clove touch those knives.

She threw her javelin.

Clove was forced to stop in her tracks as the javelin was thrown not _at_ her, but in _front_ of her. She had to fling herself back as Sera appeared out of nowhere and threw the other javelin right at her.

All this time, Sera had been screaming.

'Do you understand the immense _pressure_ I'm under! Do you not know how _important _this is to me!'

'Does it look like I care what goes on in your fucking head?' This time, it was Clove that scowled at the absurd question. She was angry at the cut Sera had done to her.

Sera continued like she hadn't heard anything.

'I have to win these _fucking_ Games because I have a _reason_! It's not just for my District alright! I don't want to be in these Games just because I'm fucking bloodlust like you are!'

Clove's facial's changed drastically at that statement.

It turned cold.

'What makes you think that's the only reason I want to be in there?' she asked. Her voice was cold and hard and normally, Sera would have picked this up.

But not this time.

'That's all you _ever_ think about! That's all that's _ever_ written over your _fucking_ face! You can't _wait_ to cut open someone and watch their blood drain out of them as you kill them! I can see it, Lockwood! It's fucking obvious you might as well be-' Sera shouted, but her words were cut off as her head smacked onto the floor so hard that she saw stars. Her voice caught in her throat as she came face to face with Clove pinning her down, and the tip of the javelin was pointed straight at her eye.

Clove held the tip of the javelin in her right hand, as she held the remains of it in her left. The tip was jagged from where she had snapped it.

Despite the confident yelling she had just been doing, the fire from Sera's eyes had suddenly died down. There was a flicker of fear.

She recognized Clove's expression now. But it was more than too late now.

Clove traced the tip of the glistening javelin down Sera's cheek. She flinched as blood started to trickle down her face.

'I've had enough of your fucking shit, Luhman,' Clove said. She was simply stating it. Her voice was hollow. But it wasn't because she wasn't feeling anything.

It was because her anger had boiled right over the limit.

She was absolutely enraged.

'If you think you're the only one who has a fucking reason to enter the Games, you're stupidity has now reached the absolute limit of the fucking stupidity meter. I have a reason that's not even worth putting into your fucking idiotic brain you fucking bitch. You've made me angry, Luhman. Oh have you made me angry,' Clove smirked and Sera felt a chill run up her spine.

She bit her lip. Careers weren't supposed to feel like this. She wasn't supposed to be threatened by this small girl pinning her down. She wasn't supposed to look this hopeless. It would be a pathetic scene if anybody saw her now.

But she couldn't help it.

She had _never_ seen Clove look like she is now.

She had _never_ been this terrified of this girl this much.

'And you know what I'm going to do now, Luhman?' Clove asked.

Sera could feel her hands trembling.

'I think I'm going to hurt you.'

An ear-piercing scream echoed through the training centre as the tip of the javelin dug hard into Sera's shoulder. Clove made a distorted smile as she turned the javelin around and pulled it out. Sera was thrashing about and trying to get out, but Clove was not finished.

She thrust down the javelin tip into her upper arm.

Sera screamed.

'St-stop! Clo-Clove, pl-please, please! Clove! Clo-' her voice was cut off by another scream as Clove dragged the tip down her arm. Without breaking her smile, Clove pulled the tip out, and hovered it playfully above Sera's face. She was trembling so hard that the zip on the side of her uniform was clinking against the floor beneath her.

Blood dripped down onto her already bleeding cheek, and Sera's eyes opened in pure fear.

This was it.

She was going to die.

'I'd stop that if I were you.'

Clove's expression changed from a smile to a scowl as she whipped her head to face the direction that the voice came from. The javelin tip was just centimeters from Sera's face, but Sera was just lying there trembling, so terrified that she hadn't even turned to see who had saved her life.

Clove scowled even more, as she looked at the tall masculine figure leaning against the wall.

How typical for him to be here in this situation.

'What are you doing here?' Clove spat acidly.

She was just about to kill Sera Luhman in the worst way possible. The javelin tip was just hovering above her pretty face. All it would take was one thrust and she would have died an agonizing death.

How dare he stop her.

Cato Thorman simply walked towards the two girls on the floor and glanced at the broken javelin that Clove had let go without noticing. He simply dodged the javelin tip that came flying his way, and grabbed Clove by the arms and pulled her off Sera.

'What the _fuck_ do you think you're doing!' Clove shouted.

She thrashed about in his grip, but he was the strongest male trainee, and the male tribute for the Hunger Games. She wouldn't be able to get out of his grip unless she had a weapon.

Cato simply smirked.

'What the fuck are _you_ doing? Do you even _know_ the consequences of killing a trainee before you get into the Games?'

'Do you think I _care_!'

'Well you should, if you want to keep your volunteering chance,' Cato said, still not loosening his grip. Clove game him furious look.

'Why do _you _care if I loose my chance or not!' She spat. Cato simply looked at her amusingly.

'Don't get the wrong idea, midget,' Clove tried to bite him, but Cato simply moved his hand further down her arm where she couldn't reach him. Clove made a frustrated noise.

'All I want to do is kill in the Games. And I can't _wait_ to kill you, you see? If you don't get into the Games, I won't be able to kill you. Simple as that,' he smirked again as Clove scowled even more.

He looked down at Sera. Her left arm was completely drenched in blood and it was hard to distinguish what was her arm and what wasn't. Her dark blond hair was plastered to her face with blood. She was whimpering as her right arm hesitantly hovered over her other.

Cato sighed and thrust Clove to the side. She let out a grunt as she landed, and growled as she saw Cato take of his jacket and thrust it at Sera. Sera didn't say anything as she grabbed it and desperately tried to wrap it around her left arm.

Clove lunged towards Cato, but he simply dodged her and caught her by the arms once again.

'How _dare_ you save her! Just because you've fucked her a few times, you think you're obliged to save her!' She shouted. Cato gave her an exasperated look.

'What the _fuck_ is wrong with you? I'm not saving her, nor have I fucked her. If I'm saving anyone it's _your_ fucking ass, alright? As I said, _I'm_ going to kill you. And _you're_ going to have to be in the Games for me to accomplish that. Is that reaching your _fucking_ brain or not?' He spat.

Clove simply glared at him.

'Oh _your_ not going to kill _me_. Because _I'm_ going to kill _you_. I was going to kill you from the start you know; as soon as the alliance broke off, but I think I might just kill you as soon as the Games starts,' she spat back. Cato smiled obnoxiously.

'I'll be looking forward to _that_, sweetheart. But if you really want to do that, you should try not to kill her first,' he gestured towards Sera as he headed to the exit. 'See you at the reaping tomorrow,' he called cheerfully.

Clove growled, and stomped towards the opposite exit.

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**Whew. So what do you guys think?**

** You're thoughts are always deeply appreciated so keep the reviews coming! I vomit rainbows when I see reviews. I'm serious. :D**

** And again the next chapter's probably going to be late! I'm sorry, it's been a really hectic week and it's only going to get worse. And I only just managed to finish this today (I actually only started this today but please don't tell anyone that). I'm so tired so there might be a few mistakes. If that's the case please tell me. coughIcan'. Huh, I think I'm getting sick! Better be off to bed then. Night night!**

**Thank you so much for reading!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey guys! Thank you for your lovely lovely reviews! You guys are just too awesome for words! All you Clato lovers out there just make me so happy I'm vomiting rainbows (Sorry. Not gonna lie, I really like that expression).**

**It's quite short but i thought continuing it after the last line might be kinda hard, so forgive me! It's all because of me and my lack of writing skills!**

**I might update again in the weekend if i can get round to it!**

**Disclaimer: Do I really need to do this? There's no way I could write like Suzanne Collins.**

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Clove woke up and groaned. The sun was shining in through the slit that her curtains created, and was directly pointing to her eyes. She covered her eyes and rolled over before she glimpsed at the clock on her bedside table; the red digits glowed and showed the time; 8:31 am.

The Reaping was going to start in another one and a half hours.

The Reaping.

Clove jumped out of bed. The Reaping! She had completely forgotten about it until now, despite the fact that she was up until one in the morning thinking _only_ of that.

She smirked. How utterly exhilarating she felt.

Clove opened her curtains and looked out towards the street. There were already some people walking along, dressed up in dresses and smart, casual shirt and pants. They were the eager ones, ready to cheer on anybody who volunteered. Wasn't it nice to know that you would never be in the danger of having to be reaped here, in District Two?

Clove's smirk broadened. Oh today was going to be an exciting day.

Clove entered the assembling point dressed in a pale yellow dress. It was a sweet dress with lace along the hem and a bow behind her neck, and it suited her wonderfully because of her dark brown hair and equally brown eyes, but it did nothing to make her seem less menacing then usual. In fact, it seemed horribly mismatched with the obnoxious smile she had on her face.

Most of the District Two residents already knew who was going to volunteer and get into the Games. The trainees who made it to the final training centre were announced on the first day of training to the whole district, so most of Two already knew who was going to have a chance to volunteer. Of course, people who got into the final training centre were very skilled fighters in the first place, so their names had already been known for a long time.

And everybody sure as hell knew who Clove Lockwood was.

The escort in District Two was called Latric Crest. He was an average height man with bright blue hair and floral orange tinged skin. His eyelashes were silver and his face was studded with sparkling jewels leading from his temple to the corner of his eyes. Theses eyes were narrowed into slits as the usual video of the rebellion was played, and the corners of his mouth were raised, showing his golden teeth.

Clove looked at him in disgust. She would never understand the Capitol's horrible fashion sense. It made this hideous material she was wearing seem like an award winning dress.

The video ended, but nobody had been bothered to look at the screen, so hardly any faces were turned towards Latric. He didn't seem to mind this at all, as his teeth gleamed and he tapped the microphone a few times before clearing his throat.

'Welcome everyone! Welcome to you! And you! And you! Welcome to this wonderful, wonderful day!' his voice was bright and bubbly, nearly like Taron's but much, much more annoying. It held a hint of a screeching noise, and his voice would always crack when he raised his voice.

'Today is such an exciting day isn't it? I can see it in your excited faces!'

Absolutely nobody looked excited at the moment, but he was either absolutely oblivious to anything that happens around him, or he was just saying the same things he always says. Clove was usually angry or frustrated at the Reaping in the past years, so she had never paid much attention to what Latric had ever been saying.

'Well, without further a due, let's start shell we? Although I do believe this pulling out of a bowl thing really doesn't matter at this District!' Latric chirped. An excited murmur sounded throughout the crowd, and Clove felt a smile form on her lips.

Latric dug his hand into the bowl full of names, and took an agonizing long time to pull out a piece of paper. He looked to the crowd once, before unfolding the paper, then glanced at the name written down. He then looked to the crowd again and opened his mouth.

'Alivia Sar-'

'I volunteer!'

Clove's voice rang out loud and confidently and cut off the voice and the name that Latric was reading out. She didn't even know who this Alivia girl was, but she had never heard of her before, obviously meaning she was nothing close to the what would be Games material.

Latric beamed but didn't look surprised at all, as this was the standard thing that happened in District Two.

'As always, District Two is always so, so enthusiastic! It makes me excited as well!' He made an irritating sound of laughter, before shaking Clove's hand as she rose to the stage.

'And what would your name be, young lady?' Latric asked, showing those gleaming golden teeth at her.

'Clove Lockwood,' Clove replied flatly. She was not the type to have small talk on a stage, showing a fake version of herself, unless it was with Caesar Flickerman. As that was for the Games, and Clove was going to do anything that would make people like her and give her sponsors. If that meant she would be able to win.

'Well, I must say you look rather dashing in that yellow dress! Don't you think folks?' Latric called out to the audience, but there was no reaction.

Clove spotted her family at the back; her father had his right arm around her mother, and his other arm was resting on her sister's shoulder. Her sister was slightly tearing up that sent a pang of something through her chest, but it quickly dissolved away. Clove was not emotional. She was not going to let Panem think that her family was her weakness.

She had no weaknesses.

Somebody wolf whistled at Latric's statement, and it snapped Clove back to the matter at hand. All eyes including Clove and Latric's, turned to whom the whistle came from, and Clove instantly scowled. The person was grinning widely and his electrifying blue eyes were staring straight at her.

'Ah, I see at least one gentleman agrees with me!' Latric laughed as some sniggers resounded through the crowd. Clove gripped her hands tightly, determined not to throw the pin in her hair straight at Cato's face.

Oh, how he annoyed her.

Oh, how much she couldn't _wait_ to slit open his throat and give Panem the most beautiful death they would ever see.

Oh how she just couldn't wait to _kill_ Cato Thorman.

These thoughts crossed in her head, and she turned her scowl into a smirk.

It stayed there even after Cato volunteered and came onto stage, and they were ushered into the large building behind them.

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**So, to be honest I'm not too happy with this chapter. It was sort of hard to work around all the talking if you have any idea what I'm talking about. There wasn't much explanation on Clove's family, but that's because I wanted it to seem like Clove cared about her family, but not enough to really interact with them all the time.**

**Ok. Third time lucky. It's going to move on in the next chapter.**

**Thank you for reading!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Once again thank you for your fabulous reviews!**

**Pfft, I'll get you a chapter in the weekend. Look how that turned out.**

**I'm so sorry it's short, once again. Really I am. But my internet is stuffed up, and I don't know when it might stuff up again and I might not be able to upload for ages, so I decided to just give you this. I'm really sorry.**

**You guys and your reviews are just too awesome for words!**

**Disclaimer: Yeah. You know the deal.**

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There were only three people who came to see Clove. Her father, her mother and her sister. She didn't care. In fact she wouldn't have minded at all even if they didn't come. She didn't think of these as goodbyes anyway.

Because she was going to come back.

Although her family knew this as well, her father looked distressed, and was tightly holding on to her right-hand. Her left was grasped in her sister's hands, and she looked as if she was going to burst into tears any second.

Her mother looked indifferent. As if the fact that her sixteen-year-old daughter going into an arena to kill and, maybe, be killed, wasn't something to get emotional about.

Clove glared at her, but her mother's face stayed blank.

'Clove, I-I know you will be fine,' her father stammered, holding her hands even tighter in his cold ones. 'I-it's just, a-as a parent I can't help but, but worry about you.'

Clove nodded, but there wasn't any sympathy or love in her eyes. They just seemed to look at him, acknowledging who he was, but not really caring that much.

'I know Dad. It's alright,' she said. 'But really, you have nothing to worry about. I'll kill those twenty-three tributes and be back here in two weeks. It's not something to get all soppy about.'

Her father stiffened, and her sister let out a small whimper.

Clove looked at her.

'Don't cry,' she said forcefully, but it seemed to have an opposite effect as her sister just bit her lip and looked down.

'It's nothing to cry about,' she said, holding down her urge to swear. At this point, nothing would stop her from crying.

Clove sighed as she saw the hand of a Peacekeeper slide through the door, gesturing for her to hurry up.

'Look. You guys have to go, but you'll see me soon alright? So don't be so down. It's just bye for now,' she said, slightly tiredly.

Her father reluctantly let go of her hand, but her sister held on.

Clove sighed again.

'Dad,' she said exasperated, and her father gently pulled her sister's hand off Clove's.

She looked at them both before just smiling slightly, as the Peacekeepers entered the room and pulled them out.

Clove didn't even look at her mother, as her family left the room.

* * *

By judging on how long it took for Cato to appear out of the building and board the car, he had obviously had many visitors. Clove presumed that they were mostly all the girls that were crazy about him, although he didn't care for them, as much as he didn't care for his family. She knew Cato and his family had never gotten on well. She didn't know why, but all the time they had been training, Cato's family had never turned up to any events, and Cato never seemed to care.

Clove shrugged. She would never know, but frankly, she didn't really care either.

His blonde hair was a mess as if he had been amidst many people who were fighting to get to kiss him or hug him or whatever those stupid girls would possibly do (in Cato's case, this metaphor would probably be true), and she saw a unique bruise on his neck as he got into the seat beside her. She scoffed as he rubbed his neck irritably, and ignored the glare he sent her way.

She was still pissed off at how he had humiliated her at the reaping.

The engine of the car was turned on, and the crowds of people by the window passed by faster and faster.

* * *

Clove and Cato were introduced to their mentors the moment they entered the train. As they had heard from many past victors, the train moved at incredibly high speed, yet the people on the train didn't feel a thing. It seemed completely odd, as if the view outside the window was the one that was moving, and not you.

They entered a room that had three plush red sofas that were facing each other in a shape of a triangle, and a bench in the middle that had countless numbers of biscuits and cakes. There was beer and wine that Cato eagerly reached for, but it was quickly whisked away by a stern-faced Latric who said, 'Alcohol is no way to start the day.'

He didn't seem to realize they were already half way through the day, and whether he purposefully made that sentence rhyme or not was a mystery.

Cato grumpily grabbed a biscuit instead, and sat down in one of the sofas muttering something about the fucking Capitol and their fucking rules. Clove took a cake about the size her fist, before settling into the sofa next to him. She eagerly took a bite, not caring that the cake was provided by the Capitol. She was not one to care about where food came from, no matter how much she hated the Capitol, as long as it was good.

Cato saw her eating it happily, and he eyed the biscuit suspiciously before chucking the whole biscuit into his mouth. Judging by the approving sound he made, it was apparently up to his standards.

He quickly grabbed another three as Clove reached for one too, before the door on the opposite side of where Clove and Cato entered opened, and two figures followed by two Avoxs stepped into the room.

Both Clove and Cato recognized them immediately.

Who wouldn't recognize the proud former victors of District Two?

Cato grinned at the same time Clove smirked, and the two mentors eyed them carefully.

Brutus stroked his chin as Lyme stood with her arms crossed. They looked at one another, and although they said nothing, there was a silent conversation happening between them. Neither Clove or Cato knew what this meant, but they were certain the conversation was about them.

Eventually Brutus grabbed a handful of biscuits and a bottle of wine (that was provided by the Avox standing next to him), as Lyme took one biscuit in her hand and they sat down on the last couch.

Brutus grinned, showing his chipped teeth, as Lyme smirked and bit into her biscuit.

'Looks like we have a nice vicious pair this year, eh Lyme?' he said, laughter in his voice.

Lyme gestured for the wine bottle to Brutus before swallowing her biscuit, and nodded.

'I believe we do, Brutus. I believe we do.'

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**Ha. I have know idea what Brutus or Lyme actually talk like. I read over Catching Fire but I'm still not too sure. So this is just all to my imagination. I know you guys will forgive me ;)**

**Once again, I'm sorry it's so short! I'm not making any promises but I hope my next chapter should come soon!**

**Thank you for reading!**


	7. Chapter 7

**I know it's been forever. I'm so sorry. I am sorry to say I don't have an excuse but it's longer than the others and I stayed up until 11.50pm on a school night so you guys will forgive me right? (Please?)**

**Thank you for the reviews and I'm so sorry I haven't replied to them! I will get on with them ASAP. Just... not tonight. I'm going to sleep.**

**Disclaimer: ...yeah.**

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'I've heard you two are quite the handful,' Brutus grinned, and took a gulp straight from the wine bottle. Lyme looked at him with contempt before asking for her own.

Cato and Clove exchanged looks.

'You know about us?' Clove asked.

Neither her nor Cato had expected their mentors to know about them. Sure, they were famous in their District, but the Victors usually lived in their own little world, and usually didn't care about who was going to go into the Games. It wasn't like their job was going to change.

Lyme raised her eyebrows.

'Really? You think we wouldn't know about the two most famous prodigies in our own District? Just because we've won the Games doesn't mean that we don't care about it at all,' she scoffed.

Brutus let out an unpleasant laugh.

'We didn't really _choose_ to hear about you two though, don't get that wrong. We just asked who would most likely be in the Games this year, and Taron responded by giving us a full background about you two, from the moment you were born to the moment your names were called out on the ranking list,' he said.

Of course, that made perfect sense.

Brutus and Lyme must have been Taron's mentors, when him and the other tribute were going into the Games thirteen years ago. Knowing Taron, he probably stayed in contact with his mentors a lot, and told them all about Clove and Cato.

It was strange to think that Taron might have been their mentor if he hadn't decided to be Head Mentor for the training centre. It was because most people imagined Victors to be at least forty years old and unmotivated to do things; not young and energetic like Taron was. Finnick Odair in District Four was an exception though, probably because he was much more good looking than Taron, and had absolutely _dominated _the Games from the minute he received his trident, whereas Taron hid in the shadows and launched sneaky attacks on the tributes so as not to show other tributes what he was capable of. The way the two had won their Games were always compared though, as they were both the only fourteen-year-olds and the youngest two that had ever won the Games, and funnily enough, they had both won by using a trident. In Taron's case, his enemy's trident.

Clove suspected they had a secret rivalry going on despite living in different Districts, or at least Taron held some sort of bitter feeling towards Finnick, as until he had won the Games, Taron had been in the spotlight for years.

'To be honest, I'm not quite sure what to do with you two,' Brutus exclaimed and Clove snapped out of her thoughts. He opened a second bottle of wine, which Lyme swiftly took out of his hands and handed it to the Avox behind her. Brutus seemed irritated at that action, but one quick look from Lyme made him sigh and raise both hands as if to surrender.

'I mean, according to Taron, you two don't need any specific training, and you know all your survival skills. I guess once we get to the Capitol and head to training, you can find your allies.'

Allies.

Clove perked up at that word, as did Cato. There was the silent agreement that had been going on for countless years, that District One, Two and Four formed allies and stayed together until everyone apart from them was killed.

Clove felt a grin spread across her face. From the corner of her eye she saw the crazy look forming in Cato's eyes.

Already, this train ride was starting to feel much too long.

* * *

It was when they had finally made it to the Capitol and ushered into their own rooms, that Clove realized how exhausted she was. She chucked her luggage onto the floor and flopped onto the large bed sitting in the middle of the bedroom.

It was impossibly soft and fit just around her body, covering her ears and blocking out the sound. It felt like she was on clouds, which was a pathetic metaphor that she thought she would never use, and she could have just lay there forever.

If nobody had knocked on the door of course.

'Clove, could you come out? We're going to have a discussion with how we're going to get you and Cato through the Games,' it was Lyme's voice, and although Clove had nothing against her (well, not yet anyway) she was irritated with how she would have to get out of this luxurious bed.

'I though we discussed that we didn't need to do anything,' she raised her voice to make sure Lyme heard her.

'Now, Clove,' Lyme replied firmly, ignoring her words.

Clove swore loudly enough for Lyme to hear, as she reluctantly left her bed and headed towards the door. She flung it open and stalked past Lyme into the dining room where Brutus, Latric and Cato had already gathered. They sat down at the dining table; Lyme beside Brutus and Clove beside Cato. Latric was at the head of the table though he had no say in their survival. He was helping himself to a pink dish that Clove had never seen before, and Cato was biting into a much safer looking stick-like food. He didn't look anymore happier than Clove was, and she had a feeling she wasn't the only who was tired.

'Let's get straight to business,' Brutus started. 'We know for certain that you'll be getting allies. You've seen the video of them getting reaped so you'll have a good idea of what they're capable of.'

Lyme nodded in agreement.

They had watched the video on the way here.

The two from District One would surely be their allies. There had been past years where Four wasn't part of their alliance, but One had always been, no matter what. Clove recalled the boy tribute from District One, who looked calm and collected as his name was called out; it was as if he had known this day was coming all his life. Clove was impressed. Even if he was feeling scared or shocked, he certainly didn't show it. That was always a positive. Being impassive during Games was definitely an aspect that the sponsors would look for. He had light brown hair and green eyes and was quite tall, nearly as tall as Cato. He was what you would call handsome, but Clove knew many would acknowledge Cato more handsome.

Unlike her District partner, the girl tribute from Two showed the shock on her face clearly, but it was immediately replace by a look of triumph. Like District Two, being chosen for the Games was an honour in District One. Clove had immediately taken a dislike towards her as she sauntered onto the stage and smiled brightly. She had luscious blonde hair and emerald green eyes like her District partner and was undeniably beautiful. However, she seemed arrogant and extremely vain, as if she knew she was beautiful and she used it as a weapon. She strongly reminded Clove of Sera, but more sly and manipulating.

The two from District Four didn't look too promising, though knowing their District was fishing, she presumed they would both be skilled with setting traps by tying knots, or be useful with tridents if they were lucky enough to receive them.

The tribute that caught her eye the most was the enormous boy from District Eleven. He was monstrous, definitely taller than Cato, and she could see her knives penetrating his arms, but not applying any damage. She shuddered at the thought. She knew she didn't want him in their alliance.

There was also the girl from Twelve that volunteered for her sister. Clove knew that could provide a problem.

'That girl from Twelve could be a problem.'

Clove thought that she had said this out loud, but quickly realized whose voice it was, and looked at Cato in surprise. Brutus and Lyme looked surprised as well, as they had obviously not thought she would be a threat at all.

Clove quickly recovered from her shock and nodded while saying, 'I agree,' which received an amused look from Cato.

Latric looked puzzled along with the mentors.

'Why would anyone from District Twelve be a problem? They don't receive training and their not even able to eat properly!' He exclaimed in his irritating voice.

Brutus and Lyme ignored him completely and just asked the simple question. They knew their tributes weren't stupid.

'Why?'

'She's going to be determined,' Clove started. 'If she loves her sister enough to enter the Games in her place, she's obviously going to try her best to win for her. Determination is the worst thing for us because most people give up as soon as they see Careers. She's not.'

'And she doesn't look like it at first, but she's well built,' Cato continued. 'Definitely more built than the others who were around her, considering the amount of food they receive. I'm guessing she's skilled in some sort of weapon, just can't put my finger on it.'

Lyme knit her eyebrows together. 'Is that really going to be much of a problem? You two seem strong enough to take down the whole arena by yourselves if you wanted to.'

'I can,' Clove and Cato said simultaneously. It was followed by a glare at each other, and a laugh from Brutus.

'Alright, alright. Enough with the problems, we're here to talk about _how_ you two are planning on winning these Games. Remember the main thing is that you stay in an alliance as long as possible, and break it off as soon as the Career Pack dies out,' he paused. 'Literally.'

'So, what's the best weapon you could get in the arena?' Lyme asked.

'Knives.'

'Swords.'

Both the answers were immediate. Lyme raised her eyebrows approvingly and Brutus smirked.

'Well that's no problem then. Those are usually the weapons that are in the Games every year.'

She exchanged glances with Brutus and had another of their silent conversations.

'Well… I think there's nothing more to discuss. Just remember that training start at three,' she said. And just like that, the two were dismissed.

* * *

Clove had just opened her door to her room when she heard Cato stop in front of his. Much to her annoyance his room was exactly opposite hers, which meant that seeing each other was inevitable.

She felt his gaze on her and she turned around irritably.

'What?' she hissed. Cato just smiled.

'Nothing. I was just surprised you noticed the girl from Twelve,' he said.

So, she wasn't the only one who was surprised about the somewhat synchronized thinking.

Clove smirked.

'I was surprised _you_ noticed anything about your opponents. You don't strike me as the type,' she said smiling. His grin just widened.

'Don't get too cocky with me, midget. I could crush you in two seconds.'

'Not if my knife meets your neck first, dickhead.'

They were both still smiling at each other as they exchanged these words. It would seem absurd from somebody else's view, but Clove could only ever remember having conversations like this with Cato. Not that she ever really talked to him often, just in the rare time when they did, it was never peaceful.

She turned around and opened the door but was stopped again by Cato.

'What's the real reason you entered the Games, midget?' he asked. His tone was half mocking, half serious. He knew there was something other than the bloodlust that gave Clove a reason to enter these Games.

He didn't have any proof. He just knew.

Clove didn't turn around. This was why Cato annoyed her. They hardly ever talked to each other, yet he knew her background as well as his own.

She gritted her teeth.

'Even if there was, I wouldn't be telling you,' she spat. She pushed the door but it was pulled back by Cato's long arm. She cursed and flung around facing his chest. She raised her gaze. His electrifying eyes were already meeting hers.

'Why do _you_ care?' she demanded. 'Why do you care about me _at all_?' She pushed his arm out of the way to which Cato surprisingly didn't show any resistance.

He looked down at her. Impassive.

Clove badly wanted a knife in her hand to stab something. Anything.

'For _fucks_ sake you know _exactly_ why I'm here!' She shouted. 'You know _exactly_ why I want to be here and what I want to accomplish! You _know_! Why do you have to be so _fucking irritating_?'

Her voice was a shrill as she spat in Cato's face. His facials didn't change.

Clove swore again repeatedly before turning around and slamming the door behind her.

She was going to kill that guy.

Oh, was she going to kill him.

* * *

**So I hope you enjoyed that! (Please say you did. I would be indescribably happy)**

**Not much really happens in this chapter. But training and forming allies and stuff will be in the next. Sorry it's taking so long to get to the actual Games.**

**Once again thank you for the reviews and keep them coming! I promise I'll reply to them even if I become an old wobbly lady.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey guys! It's been a while, like always! Sorry! It'll probably be bout this most of the time so please forgive me! Don't expect too much!**

**Didn't really get as long as I had planned but I thought it was a good place to finish. Hopefully we'll get somewhere else in the next chapter.**

**Once again thank you for your fabulous reviews! It's all thanks to you guys that I don't give up on writing this story.**

**Disclaimer: You know the deal.**

* * *

Clove and Cato entered the training center to be met by many eyes of the other tributes. They were both dressed in their matching suits that had the number 'two' stitched onto the back. There was nothing more annoying than having to be dressed exactly like Cato, but that was not the main thing that was on Clove's mind at the moment.

She had caught the girl from District Twelve looking at them, but when she looked in her direction she had quickly turned away. Clove scoffed. Maybe she wasn't as determined as Clove had made her out to be.

She turned her attention back to the matter at hand. The tributes had quickly averted their eyes back to the mentor, who looked at the two disapprovingly. They weren't exactly late, but they _were_ the last ones to enter.

The mentor looked around the circle that the tributes had formed around her.

'First of all, there is to be _no_ killing,' she said. 'There'll be plenty of time for that in the arena.'

She ignored the sniggers that were heard and continued.

'You have three hours to do what you want, whether that be throwing spears or hand-to-hand combat. There will be a professional mentor at each section, so learn from them. I don't want anyone, and I repeat, _anyone_ to hurt any of the mentors. There will be consequences. And not very nice ones too,' she said and looked carefully around at the tributes faces.

Clove rolled her eyes.

_Great, what fun that's going to be,_ she thought.

'Well that's gonna be fun,' Cato muttered beside her, and she sniggered. At least she would always have _him_ to be her 'dummy'.

The mentor laid her eyes on the two, as if she had heard them, then looked away, impassive.

'Alright,' she said. 'Dismissed.'

* * *

The pair from District One advanced on them as soon as the circle of tributes started to break off.

'Hey, you two.'

Clove and Cato turned around to face a smiling girl and a smirking boy from One. They looked at each other before Cato eyed them up and down. The girl flirtatiously threw her hair back, making Cato raise his eyebrows and the boy from One to roll his eyes.

Clove snorted before punching him hard in the arm and opened her mouth.

'If you want to make out, do it somewhere else. We have more important things to do,' she said flatly.

Cato simply looked back at her and tried to suppress a smirk.

'What? Jealous are you?' he teased.

'In your fucking dreams,' she hissed.

The girl from One just giggled before laying her hand on Cato's arm.

'Hey, whenever you want, I'm here,' she purred.

Cato just smirked, and Clove wanted to stab both of them in the face right there and then.

'Cut it out, Glimmer. We're not here to put up with your shit,' the boy from District One said, making Clove's anger dissipate a little.

At least someone around here could actually think properly.

'Ugh, Marvel, always having to ruin the fun,' Glimmer said with disgust, and took her hand off Cato.

She pouted, but shrugged and draped her arm around the boy, Marvel's, shoulders instead, leaning against him. He looked at her disapprovingly but didn't shake her off, so Clove assumed it was something that happened often.

'You two know why we're here right?' he asked.

'Sure we do. Just trying to figure out whether we should really have an alliance with you two or not. You don't seem like you could keep up with our level,' Cato's reply was instant, with definite hostility. Clove couldn't help but let out a laugh, as the two from District One stiffened.

Marvel was the first to speak.

'Don't assume you're the strongest one here,' he said flatly. There wasn't anything bitter or cold, in fact there was hardly any emotion in his voice, but Cato's expression instantly turned deadly. He flexed his fingers, a habit that Clove recognized as when he wanted to have swords in his hands.

'Listen up, One,' he hissed and stepped closer to Marvel.

Glimmer quickly slinked back, but Marvel stood there and looked straight back at Cato's piercing eyes. They were about the same height, so the usual intimidating feature of Cato wasn't effective. Even so, Clove knew that the majority of people would be running away if Cato was in their one meter radius, with an expression like that.

Apart from her of course.

Cato jabbed his finger hard against Marvel's chest. He staggered back slightly, but didn't show any sign of pain. That angered Cato more.

'I could kill you in two seconds if I wanted to,' he spat fiercely. 'The reason I _won't_, is because you could be useful in _some_ sort of way if I kept you in the alliance. Now, if you don't want to be killed as soon as we enter the arena, I would recommend you keep your fucking mouth _shut_.'

His face was right up against Marvel's, and many of the tributes had turned to look at them. The mentor also had her gaze in their direction, but judging from the look on her face she wasn't going to do anything until there was physical violence going on.

Marvel wavered slightly, but didn't show any real fear in his eyes as he looked steadily back at him.

Clove raised her eyebrows. He definitely seemed calm when she had seen him on T.V, but she had never thought he would be _this_ collected towards somebody like Cato. She had assumed that (as much as it annoyed her) Cato would be the sort of leader of the alliance, and nobody apart from her would have the guts to confront him about his choices. Of course, this was all based on how the people back in District Two had acted towards Cato, so even if District One acted strong against Two, it wasn't necessarily something to be so surprised about.

Even so, Cato _was_ an intimidating figure, and Clove didn't think many people would want to get on his bad side.

'Do you _really_ think that you were the only one that was thinking of killing us off before we were supposed to?' Marvel asked.

Cato's eyes flared but Marvel ignored him.

'Our alliance doesn't make us fucking 'friends',' he said, and Clove caught the first sign of emotion in his voice. 'Just because we'll be working together until it's just us left, it doesn't mean that we won't kill each other beforehand. You don't know what will happen in the arena, fuck, you don't know _shit_ about the tributes in the arena. Do you know what that means?'

Cato stayed silent as Marvel continued.

'It means that _anything_ could kill us. _Anything_. So you know what? We're staying in an alliance because it's beneficial for _all_ of us. We aren't your fucking dog pack. We're not going to sit there and listen to you. If you want to kill me, fine. But just remember that that's what we're _all_ thinking.'

He jabbed Cato in the chest just as hard as Cato had done to him, before he turned his back and headed to the spears. Glimmer looked slightly surprised as she looked between Cato and her District partner, but quickly chased after Marvel. She seemed to be trying to say something to him, but Marvel brushed her off.

Clove looked up at Cato. His fists were clenched so hard that they were white, and his mouth was just a thin line. She could almost _see_ the anger radiating from his body.

Nobody had ever talked to him like that. Nobody. Even Clove had never been able to say something that made Cato angry enough to make him speechless. No, speechless was the wrong word. It was more like shock. She hadn't expected anything like that to happen, and neither did Cato. He was used to people always listening to him and being intimidated by him. Being talked back to like that from a person that he had only met, was horribly humiliating.

Clove looked back at Marvel and Glimmer. They had both approached the two from Four, and from the looks of it there was no questioning going on.

She looked back at Cato who was still glaring fiercely at Marvel.

This was going to be _one_ interesting alliance.

* * *

**So the main idea for this chapter was the alliance.** .**...I don't know why i needed to say that. It was quite obvious. But you know.**

**Sorry the writing's quite shitty. I think I'm starting to get writer's block. Can...not...write...**

**I'm quite liking the character of Marvel if I may say so myself. Glimmer's character's sortve hard. I really want to make a difference with her and Sera but I was obviously not thinking about Glimmer when making up Sera's personality. Why. Why am I so stupid.**

**Anyway, thank you so much for reading and please keep the reviews coming! It's the one thing that motivates me enough to keep writing! :P**


	9. Chapter 9

**I'm so sorry for the very long wait. Like usual. No, I'm really sorry, and for you fabulous guys who reviewed I will love you forever. And ever and ever and ever 3**

**It became one of the longest ones I've wrote and erm, it's not too exciting but here it is :)**

**I'm working on the next chapter right this instant so hopefully it won't be too far off.**

**Disclaimer: Yep.**

* * *

Training was nothing new for Clove. All she had to do was throw knives at targets and slash through a few dummies and that was it. There was nothing more and nothing less. She had roamed around the self-defense area and stayed at the edible plant section for a fraction, but that was about it. Apart from the dodging exercise that everyone had to do, she hadn't done anything specifically new. She thought that perhaps all of the Careers were going through the same thing, but when she saw Marvel making traps with a puzzled expression and Glimmer carefully picking her way through edible plants, that didn't seem the case either. Even the tributes from Four were eagerly trying out different weapons.

She made a frustrated sound and looked around, unintentionally locking eyes with Cato, who was looking directly at her. He was the only one who was standing awkwardly like her, as if he also didn't have anything to do. Just minutes ago he had been going absolutely berserk and thrashing his sword around at any target he could find, but nearly twenty minutes of that had seemed to calmed him down enough to keep him standing without trying to kill anyone.

They kept their gaze on each other, but eventually averted their eyes. Clove was still angry about what he had said yesterday and they weren't exactly a pair that would enjoy talking to each other, unlike the idiotic two from District Twelve. They were both at the edible plant selection and making each other depict which ones were poisonous and which ones weren't. They seemed to be enjoying themselves thoroughly, and Clove was starting to think that girl really _wasn't_ as much of a threat as she thought she would be.

* * *

Two weeks of training whizzed by quickly, and without another word from their so-called allies, Clove and Cato were preparing for the 'judging of their skills'. It was expected that Careers always received a high score from at least eight to eleven and the highest score of twelve, if scored, was also usually by a Career. The training score was everything when entering the Games. The higher the score, the more sponsors you receive. And the more sponsors you receive, the more likely it was for you to win the Games. Though both Clove and Cato were certain they could win without them.

Having Taron Reesor as your mentor meant that he taught you everything that was necessary in the Games; what weapons should be used; what places you should hide if necessary; what skills were essential. The way you handled your preferred weapon was the thing that was concentrated on the most, as Taron had mentioned that as long as the weapon skills were great, you could kill everyone before anyone else got the chance.

And that was exactly why both Clove and Cato knew that this test wouldn't be a problem at all.

'Cato Thorman, District Two,' the speaker boomed out, and both Clove and Cato raised their heads. They were sitting across from each other in the hall, and had been doing so in silence for the past twenty minutes that One had been in the training room.

Cato rose without hesitation and headed straight to the door. He looked around to Clove who was looking at him with a sour expression, and grinned widely before entering the room. Clove knew he did it just because it pissed her off, but that fact just made her even angrier.

_I swear this is _most_ fucking times I've been fucked off by the same _fucking_ person, _she thought angrily, and kicked the bench she was sitting on. It sent a jolt of pain up her leg, which just frustrated her more, and she couldn't help letting out a growl. She wanted to throw a knife badly, and instinctively reached down to her hip where she usually hung her knife holder. Nothing was there of course; no weapons were to be carried into the hall no matter what, and they had been taken from her beforehand. She huffed and laid her head against the wall, closing her eyes to concentrate on what she would do once she got in there, but she faintly heard something clattering to the floor and looked at the hall door irritably.

Cato's weapon was swords. And as much as Clove hated to admit it, he was exceptional at his skill. He would stab them, slice them, throw them; anything that was physically possible to do with swords, and he would perfect it. Flawlessly. Absolutely _nothing_ could get in his way once he had his hands on those blades, and he knew it himself. The Gamemakers were usually impressed with the skills of Careers, but they were going to be especially impressed with him. And Clove of course. Even if they were Careers, it wasn't often that a pair that perfected their skills _this _much would come from the same District.

The Gamemakers would adore them.

Clove didn't _think _they would; she _knew _they would. She knew they would be awed by Cato's strength and dumbstruck by Clove's accuracy. She knew that they would give the pair the highest score in training. No one else, no one at all was better than them.

'Clove Lockwood, District Two.'

Clove whipped her head up to the sound of her name, and immediately stood up straight. She walked to the door and entered without hesitation, hearing the Gamemakers murmuring, probably about how 'wonderful that Cato was.'

She rolled her eyes and stalked towards them. The Head Gamemaker, Seneca Crane, quickly hushed the others as he looked back down at her. His expression was impassive, but his eyes were slightly narrowed, judging her. He was obviously expecting something that would live up to what Cato had performed, whatever he had done. Which meant that he had high standards for her.

But Clove didn't waver.

'Clove Lockwood,' she announced, and Crane nodded once, signaling for her to show her skill.

She turned around and headed towards the knives without hesitation. There were a dozen silver knives lined up beside each other in perfect condition, just waiting to be thrown. She picked two up, one in each hand and twirled them around. She heard the approving murmurs of the Gamemakers that made her smile. The knives fitted perfectly in her hands, and she slid her finger along the shining blade, which just made her smile more, showing her teeth.

She looked towards the targets. There were ten dummies lined up from a distance of five to fifteen metres. The three lined up at the ten-metre line were moving horizontally, and there was one normal target on the wall on either sides of the dummies. She chuckled.

Twelve targets. Twelve knives.

She smirked.

And threw the knife.

It split through the air with amazing speed as it stabbed the dummy at fifteen metres, precisely in the heart. She heard the Gamemakers gasp.

She threw the other knife that she was holding in her left hand, and it pierced right _through_ the forehead of the dummy at the five-metre line. The knife clattered to the floor as the stuffing of the dummy fell out along with it, and Clove raised an eyebrow as the Gamemakers' murmurs became louder. _That_ was something that she hadn't seen since she got here. As much as she had tried, the dummies here seemed to be made stronger than the ones back at home, and she hadn't managed to penetrate any dummies yet. She grinned and threw another knife to the five-meter dummy, this time aiming the heart. Again, it pierced right through.

Clove threw back her head and laughed.

Oh how _exciting _this was. How fucking _exhilarating_ this was! She could almost _see_ the horrified expressions of the tributes she was going to kill; she could _taste_ the red liquid flying up to her face; she could _feel_ her knives pressing into the soft white flesh.

Oh this was just _so_ much fun.

The murmuring Gamemakers voices stopped abruptly, as the small but vicious girl threw another three knives, laughing loudly and penetrating the critical parts of the dummies. They would soar through the air and hit the dummies with unbelievable precision, and cut through their hearts; their heads; their throats. Red blood would sprout from their bodies and they would fall, lifeless to the ground, still with an agonizing expression plastered to their faces. Clove would dance around with her knives in her hands and throw them and throw them and throw them until _nobody_ would be left. She would dominate that arena, covered in blood and picking her knives from the dead tributes, as well as her 'wondrous' District partner.

She would win.

She didn't even realize that Crane was calling her until she looked down to see she had thrown all twelve knives. She looked up to him who had a somewhat amused expression, and the astonished Gamemakers behind them.

'Thank you Miss Lockwood,' Crane said slowly. 'You are dismissed.'

Clove looked around at the Gamemakers before mocking a curtsey, and strode to the door, still with a smile playing on her face.

* * *

The atmosphere around the T.V that night was a mixture of calmness, restlessness, confidence and excitement. Cato was sitting calmly on the couch while Clove sat on the opposite end, playing around with her knife. Latric was pacing around the room muttering to himself, as Brutus was gulping down wine happily as if they had already won. Lyme lent against the wall with her arms crossed and her eyes fixated on the screen.

There was a sound of a buzzer, and all eyes shifted to the display. Lyme grabbed the remote and turned the volume up loud, although everyone had fallen silent.

The first numbers to appear on the screen were those of District One. Neither Clove nor Cato had paid much attention to their 'allies' these past few weeks, so they weren't so sure of what their skill was. The boy was seen often with spears, but the girl was never seen concentrating on one specific area.

Marvel's face blinked onto the screen, and Cato let out a grunt. He was still irritated at the way he had been treated by him, and he didn't seem to be getting over it anytime soon. So when the number nine appeared on the screen, he let out a loud whoop.

'_That's_ what you get for calling _me_ weak motherfucker!' he shouted and slapped the couch loudly. Clove just rolled her eyes as Latric pressed his lips together, showing disapproval towards his swearing, and the two Mentors just grinned.

Nine wasn't necessarily a low number. The average score for most tributes was usually a six or a seven, sometimes an eight. Careers were usually the ones who got a nine or over, but seeing as all of them had trained for at least half their life, many people considered a nine as a low number. Getting a ten was considered amazing, eleven was outstanding and twelve was considered nearly unattainable. Nobody had received a twelve for as long as Clove and Cato had been alive.

Maybe not so surprisingly, Glimmer's score was also a nine, which just made _Clove_ laugh this time. Despite the attitude she had shown today, it seemed as though her skills didn't quite live up to it.

'I guess flirting doesn't necessarily get you a high mark,' Cato snorted. Clove couldn't help a little laugh at that, but as soon as Glimmers face disappeared from the screen, their expressions changed. Latric stopped pacing around the room and gripped the edge of the couch tightly. Brutus set down his wine bottle and Lyme pushed herself off the wall.

'District Two,' the television boomed, and Cato's face appeared on screen. Clove glanced at him as he sat right on the edge of his seat. She thought he would fall off, but before she could think of something rude to say, he had already shot up from his seat, thrusting his fist into the air, shouting at the top of his lungs. Clove quickly looked back at the screen, as the number ten flashed brightly at her.

She wasn't surprised. With Cato's skills, a ten wouldn't be hard to get.

But she knew she was just as good, as when the number ten flashed under her name as well, she let out a delightful laugh. She saw Cato's grin fade slightly as Lyme came over and clapped her hand on her back.

'Wouldn't have expected anything less from the two of you,' she said happily. Brutus was slapping Cato's back repeatedly, but his gaze was fixed onto Clove. She looked back at him with a little smile and couldn't help but feel triumphant.

'Oh look, now we're matching in scores too,' she said sweetly and felt a strong sense of satisfaction as Cato's hands balled into fists.

Cato thought he was the best. Cato thought he was the best out of _everyone_ here. He was absolutely confident about getting a high score in training and he knew that nobody would be able to live up to his level. Especially not the measly girl from his District.

_How wrong you are_, Clove thought, and sneered in his direction. He growled, and opened his mouth to say something insulting. But before he could say anything, Latric let out a squawk.

Everyone looked at him irritably, including the two mentors who were about to hold Clove and Cato back, but after looking at his horrified expression, they turned their heads back to the T.V.

The room fell completely silent.

For there, on the screen was the number eleven, flashing underneath the name of Katniss Everdeen.

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**So thanks for reading! There's not really much to what happened beforehand and everything like the chariot ride and interviews and stuff but I'm going to fit it in somehow so please hold tight!**

**Once again I'm so sorry for the late update!**

**Thanks for reading :D**


	10. Chapter 10

**Unlike the one before here is the next chapter! I'm really sorry I update at such an irregular pace :S There's just times when I can get on a roll and write like, 5 chapters in a row, and then there's those times when I can't think of anything to write.**

**Right now I'm on a roll, because I'm already writing up the next chapter :D**

**From now on I'm going to start writing up my next chapter as soon as I finish writing one chapter.**

**Disclaimer: As usual.**

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'_Eleven_?' Clove shrilled. '_ELEVEN?'_

She shot up from the couch and stared down at the screen, brown eyes wide and blazing. Her District partner, that _Katniss'_ District partner; stupid romantic Peeta Mellark, had gotten a measly _eight_.

Elevens were scores for Careers. Hardly _anybody_ apart from the Careers _ever_ attained a number higher than ten. Getting an eight was good enough; a nine, outstanding; ten, brilliant. But an eleven? There were no words to describe how absolutely unbelievable an eleven was for a non-Career. Even for Careers, an eleven was something considered as an outstanding result.

So how the _fuck_ did Katniss Everdeen attain an eleven?

How the _fuck_ did she get a higher score than Clove?

She threw her knife furiously at the wall. It made a loud thud and pierced right through till only the handle was sticking out. Latric let out a squeal, but another throw of her knife in his direction shut him up quickly.

'How the _fuck_ did she get a _fucking ELEVEN_?' Cato yelled beside her, standing up with such force that the couch moved back. His fist came crashing down onto the table, shattering the glass and splitting it in half. 'Someone better give me a _fucking_ good explanation or I'm going to go up there and kill her _NOW_!'

His fist crashed into a lamp this time, sending it hurtling to the ground. Clove plucked her knife from the wall and stabbed right through the T.V, ruining the display before letting out a scream.

'_Katniss Everdeen_,'she spat with such acid it would have made anybody cringe. 'Katniss Everdeen, I am going to _kill_ you! Slowly and painfully until you fucking _beg_ to die!'

She thrust her knife into the floor and stormed out of the room. Cato quickly followed, cursing loudly while throwing punches at the wall with such force that they caved in. Both Brutus and Lyme were too shocked by Katniss' score to even stop, let alone care about their tributes' behaviour. They were both standing there; looking at the screen that no longer worked. Brutus' mouth was hung open in the shape of an 'O' and he still had his wine bottle in his hand, but it was hanging loosely as if it would fall any moment. Lyme took it from his hands absent mindedly, all the while staring at the screen that was now bits of glass on the floor. Only Latric was kneeling down on his hands and knees, looking absolutely horrified at the mess Clove and Cato had managed to make.

'Oh my goodness. What am I going to _do_ with this mess?' he whimpered helplessly.

* * *

It felt like her insides were on fire. Not _once_ had Clove felt this angered in her entire _life_. She had been through so much agony and pain and just so much _shit_ since she was small, but this, this anger was _nothing_ compared to all of those past experiences combined. Even Cato's behaviour seemed cute when set side to side with _this_ fury. She could hear him behind her; breathing raggedly from all the punching and kicking he had been doing. She knew he wanted swords in his hands because she wanted knives in hers. She had them on her hip of course, so it wouldn't be hard to obtain, but Cato didn't necessarily walk around with swords dangling by his hip.

The way they thought was similar. The way they _acted_ could also be classed as similar. They were both vicious; they were both proud; they were both confident. They knew their weapons as if they were born with the skill to use them. They _knew_ how powerful they were.

Yet, this _fucking_ girl from District Twelve had defeated them in their training score. It was humiliating.

Utterly humiliating.

'That bitch is going to fucking _die_!' Cato shouted behind her, and just this once, Clove had to agree with him. 'I am going to shred her to _pieces_!'

He flung his door open, but turned around to face Clove. She had also opened her door, but was looking up at him. Although she looked calm, he could see her blazing fury inside her. She wasn't the type that continued to express her anger like Cato; she was the type to keep it in and let it out slowly but surely. She would have her outburst, but would never let the anger go. She would keep it in until the time came to throw it against her target.

He jabbed a finger at her.

'Your death is going to be delayed, midget,' he hissed. 'Just this once, _that_ bitch is going to be the one that dies first!'

'I could say the _exact_ same thing to you,' she hissed back. 'You're going to die by my hands; that's not going to change, but _she's_ going to be the one I kill. _I'm_ going to kill her!'

Cato's expression hardened as he grabbed her by the shoulders and slammed her against the wall. She couldn't help but wince at the pain.

'_I'm_ going to be the one to kill her,' he growled. 'You lay _one_ finger on my prey, and I'll kill you right there and then.'

'Try your best, _sweetheart_,' she sneered, despite his tightening grip on her arms. She was wearing a singlet, and the fact that her arms were bare didn't help to ease the burning from his grip. She could feel her face showing the pain, and she cursed inwardly for displaying it in front of Cato.

As if reading her mind, he suddenly smiled and brought his face closer to hers. She could feel his breath against her lips as her reflection appeared in his electrifying blue eyes.

'Why don't you cry out? _Sweetheart_,' he mocked. 'Am I hurting you?'

Clove glared up at him as Cato's smile turned into a smirk. It would satisfy him to the brim if Clove admitted to the agony. Inflicting pain upon her, and her admitting it would be the greatest accomplishment for Cato, and she wasn't going to give him that glory.

So she glared back and spat, 'Why don't you try?'

His smirk froze in place for a fraction before his mouth came smashing down to hers.

She had no time to react as he devoured her mouth and bit into her lip. She felt a jolt of pain as warm red blood started to trickle down her chin. Cato's mouth moved downwards, following the path of the blood, and she heard him growl from the pit of his stomach. Clove could feel his tongue grazing down her throat, and she flinched involuntarily. He smirked against her skin.

She gritted her teeth and reached for her hip. Cato hadn't loosened his hold on her, but for Clove, as long as she had knives in her hands, the physical position didn't matter.

His mouth stopped when her blade touched his upper leg. It was digging in slightly, causing _his_ blood to drip down his leg. Clove couldn't help but feel slightly fascinated at the sight, and she could _almost_ understand Cato's need to touch it.

Cato raised his head and looked straight at her. Her arms were still gripped agonizingly tight, but the knife in her hand didn't waver. In fact, she pushed it harder into his leg, which didn't even make him wince, but seemed to hurt him enough to force him to take his hands off her.

She couldn't help letting out a sigh as the pain left her, which made Cato's mouth tug up at both ends. He was holding his hand down on the cut, as blood continued to stream out.

He looked at her, eyes gleaming with so much lust that Clove thought maybe she had misunderstood his views on females.

'That was unnecessary,' he said slowly and throatily. 'Now you've got blood on your _precious_ knife.'

Clove just smiled. 'If it was _your_ blood, I'd have it on my knives _any_ day.'

His eyes blazed, and his mouth crashed down onto hers again. His hands grasped her hips, and Clove reached up to grip her hands in his golden hair. She pulled tightly on the strands and he let out a growl. She smiled into his mouth, and trailed her left hand down his jaw, to his chest and then stopped on his stomach. His hands entered underneath her singlet, and she felt his burning touch rest on her waist. He growled again and squeezed tightly. Clove flinched, which made Cato smile this time.

'Why don't you just admit to the pain, midget?' He asked breathlessly. His face left hers and looked down; his expression was showing pure hunger. 'If I can't kill you as soon as we get to the Games, I might as well hear your voice when you scream in agony.'

She couldn't help but let out a laugh, which was also breathless. She moved her right hand down and slid both hands under his shirt. His expression hardened.

'Why don't you just kill me now?' she whispered. 'Wouldn't that be so much easier for you?'

His hands gripped her waist again, as she dug her nails into his back. His gaze stayed fixated on her, and Clove didn't avert hers. Brown eyes met with blue, and a million thoughts were exchanged in that instant.

Cato let go.

Clove just paused for a moment, before releasing her hands as well. She pushed on his stomach lightly, and he stepped back. They just stared at each other, looking at the reflection showing in each other's eyes. Clove could still see the lust in his, and Cato could still see the blazing fire in hers.

Clove was the first to look away. She turned around and walked into her room, but paused and turned to look at him again. He was still looking in the same direction where Clove had just been standing, but he turned his neck to look at her.

'You asked me once before, what my other reason was for entering the Games,' she said accusingly. 'I have my reasons, and you know _exactly_ what they are. But you seem to forget, that _I_ know _you_ just as well as _you_ know _me_.' She looked straight at him, and Cato's expression changed, anticipating what she was about to say. 'And _I_ know why you wanted to be in these Games so much.'

She saw his facials change drastically to a ferocious look.

'I _know,_' she repeated, ignoring his expression. She gave him a long look before disappearing into her room, leaving Cato standing there with his hands balled into fists.

* * *

**Thank you for reading :)**

**So yeah really I have no idea what happened in this chapter. They just sortve moved without me thinking about it. But yeah, hope you enjoyed it!**

**I'm working on my next chapter now so hopefully it won't be to far away :D**


	11. Chapter 11

**Hey, I received a question that asked why I use these (') instead of these (") and the person who asked was a guest so I'm just answering here :)**

**To be honest I don't really have a specific reason. I used to use these (") when I was younger, but it sort of slipped away from me after I read lots of books, because they all used these ('). I… hope it doesn't bother people? I mean, it's not really bad is it?**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games or these characters.**

* * *

Breakfast was silent. Although the anger from last night seemed somewhat subdued, the atmosphere between Clove and Cato was something different. Clove was eating her toasted sandwich without a word, and Cato was spreading butter on his toast without a single complaint. Usually they would do everything that was physically possible to show that they were ignoring each other, or they would throw as many insults as they could across the table, but today they weren't doing either. And considering today was the day they were to enter the arena, the three adults had assumed there would be more bickering than usual.

But there was nothing.

Although, even though they weren't talking, it didn't necessarily seem as if they were ignoring each other. It seemed more as if, they were waiting for the other to speak.

Lyme was the one to break the painful silence.

'What's gotten into you two today?' she asked, and saw Latric and Brutus let out a small sigh of relief.

Cato raised his eyes to hers, but Clove stayed interested in her toasted sandwich. He sent her a sideways glance, before huffing in contempt.

'Nothing's wrong. Still fucked off about yesterday, but all ready for the Games today, aren't we, midget?' he sneered at her. The toasted sandwich dropped onto the plate, and Clove lifted her gaze to look at Lyme.

Her eyes were blazing so furiously, Lyme seemed taken aback.

'You better let me kill him,' she stated slowly.

Cato paused, before bursting out laughing, as Lyme just raised her eyebrows. The way she said it wasn't like the other times. Other times she was just saying it because she disliked him strongly and it would bring on an argument between them, but this time, she seemed as serious as ever.

'Clove, you know I can't allow that,' she said carefully. 'Being in an alliance is the best way to keep you two _alive. _Do you not understand that?'

'Of course I fucking understand that,' she spat. 'But I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I'm _not _going to play happy families with this fucking dickhead when I'm going to kill him _anyway_.'

Lyme just pressed her lips together disapprovingly as Cato carried on laughing. She heard Brutus sigh, before he stabbed a knife into Cato's toast to shut him up (though he ignored it), and opened his mouth.

'You know,' he started, reaching for an apple. 'It's been bothering me for a while, but have you two known each other before the Games?'

Clove's eyes just widened, and Cato's laughter stopped abruptly. Brutus eyed the two and exchanged looks with Lyme before continuing.

'I mean, of course you've known each other before the Games; Taron told me all about the training centres and stuff, but how long have you two actually know each other?'

The two tributes eyes lifted to look at him. He bit down hard into his apple, and all that was heard in the room was the crunching resounding from his mouth. The juice trickled out of his mouth, and he wiped it away messily with the sleeve of his shirt. He seemed to genuinely want to know what their answer was. It didn't seem as if he was plotting something, or he was going to take their answers to his advantage. Even Lyme seemed interested as she crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows at the two.

It wasn't as if they had never met a pair that knew each other. Most of the tributes that the two mentors had received over the years had all known their partners, as they both always came from Taron's training centre. Tributes from Two were always aggressive and always hostile to each other, for sure. Neither Brutus nor Lyme had met any pair that got along.

But Clove and Cato were different. They were ten times more aggressive and ten times more hostile to each other, but they had a familiarity that no other pair held. It was as if, the other pairs always had some sort of invisible wall between them to keep space, but these two didn't think they needed a wall. They understood each other. It was definitely a strange and twisted understanding, but an understanding nonetheless.

Which was why Brutus wanted to know whether that familiarity was just who they were, or if it came from the long period of time they had known each other.

A long silence continued, until Clove tossed her now cold toasted sandwich on the plate.

'I don't remember,' she said flatly.

The three adults widened their eyes in surprise, while Cato shoved the rest of his toast into his mouth, oblivious to the atmosphere around them.

'You don't remember?' Latric echoed with disbelief.

'I don't remember,' she repeated, and saw all three of them send their gaze to Cato.

He had reached for his third piece of toast, and was happily spreading some jam on it. He knew they were looking at him, and just took a gulp of milk before lifting his gaze to meet the three. He shrugged as if he couldn't care less.

'I don't remember either,' he stated simply, and took a large bite out of his toast.

The two mentors just looked at each other.

'So…' Brutus trailed off, looking slightly puzzled.

'You've known each other for so long you don't even _remember_ how long?' Lyme finished for him, and Clove and Cato nodded.

'We've known each other for at least ten years,' Cato said, his attention still on his toast.

'We just don't give a fuck about each other,' Clove continued, prodding her toasted sandwich with her finger.

Cato just grinned at her comment. 'Don't we now?'

She gave him the deadliest stare that was possible.

'You seem to know enough about each other to be able to annoy the other continuously,' Brutus interrupted tiredly before any knives went flying, and Clove let out a frustrated sigh.

'Yeah, well, it's not as if we _want_ to know. Once you know someone for a long period of time, there's information that just reaches you regardless of whether you want it or whether you want the other to know it,' she said with a scowl.

Cato scoffed. 'Like what happened to your brother.'

A chair was knocked over and a knife had dug into his arm before anybody knew what was going on.

Red blood spurt over the table, and Latric let out a squeal.

'Clove!' Lyme exclaimed, and her and Brutus quickly tried to pull her back.

She ignored the arms that wrapped around her, and gripped the hilt of the knife hard, looking at Cato with such a furious expression that it could have killed anyone right there and then.

'How _dare _you,' her voice quivered, with as much fury as a human being could possibly manage to put in. She raised her voice until it was a shrill. 'How _DARE_ you mention my _brother_! How DARE you have the fucking _nerve_ to mention him in front of _ME_!'

She lifted the knife to stab him again.

'Clove!' Lyme called again, and pulled her away from Cato forcefully. She thrashed around in her grip, still with the knife hilt in her hand, but a quick jab from Brutus forced her to drop it.

'Let go of me!' she screamed. 'Let _go of me_! I'm going to _kill_ him!'

To the surprise of the three adults, her voice cracked, and for an instant, the people in the room thought she was going to cry. They thought that the vicious, proud, ruthless Clove Lockwood was going to cry.

But she didn't, and she wasn't. Her eyes may have glistened from something that could have been tears, but she didn't cry. She would never forgive herself if she did. Especially if that was because of Cato.

She flung the knife down to the ground with a frustrated cry, and smashed the plate against the wall. She turned around to look at Cato with blazing eyes, who had his eyebrows raised from the mess she had managed to make.

'We say a lot of things to each other, Cato,' she said low and breathlessly, the fury still evidently there. And Cato noticed it was the first time she had ever used his name. 'But that's because we know _perfectly_ well what we can say, and what will fuck us off the most. But you know what? You crossed the fucking line.' She jabbed her finger at him, as he just looked back at her.

'You crossed the _fucking_ line,' she repeated. 'We know _exactly_ what will be able to hurt each other the most. We know _exactly_ what made us have to turn into, this,' she gestured to herself and him. 'But we never went there. We _never_ crossed that line. As much as I hate your fucking existence, I thought we had a silent agreement on that topic and that topic _only_.'

She stopped. Cato was still simply looking at her, as if waiting for her to say something more interesting.

She gritted her teeth so hard she could hear something crack.

Oh she was going to give him _interesting_.

'But it seems as though I was mistaken. Doesn't it? So, Cato, once the Games start, I'm going to send you to hell,' she said, an obnoxious smile playing on her face. She paused, just for the words to settle in.

The words were out before the realization hit Cato.

'Just like your _mother_.'

He was onto her in a speed that was almost physically impossible. His hands grabbed her throat and lifted her up high. Brutus was onto him in a flash, but that didn't stop him from squeezing her neck.

'The fucking nerve _you_ have you fucking dirty bitch,' his voice grumbled like thunder. Clove clawed at his hands, but her eyes were showing clear defiance and a hint of satisfaction. That simply made Cato angrier.

His grip on her neck tightened, but Brutus grabbed his arm and twisted it in a way that Clove had seen Taron do to him on training day. The strength from his hand suddenly disappeared, and Clove dropped to the ground breathless but with an amused look.

She looked up at him, and realized their positions had swapped from just moments ago. She sneered.

'How do you feel now? _Sweetheart?_'

Lyme grabbed her by the collar angrily before Cato could charge at her, and swiftly moved her out of his reach. Brutus had his arms around Cato's, holding him back, and surprisingly, Cato wasn't able to get out of his grasp.

Brutus glared at the pair with a fierceness that only a Victor could have achieved.

'I don't know what the _fuck_ is wrong with you two,' he hissed. 'But if you manage to even _scratch_ the other on this day, you _won't_ have to worry about being killed in the arena, because _I_ will make it swift and fast for you. Right. Here.' He looked at them steadily. 'Is that fucking clear?'

He didn't wait for an answer as he let go of Cato angrily and pushed him aside, so as not to go near Clove. Even Lyme seemed to agree with Brutus this time, as she swung Clove behind her with ease, and grasped her hands together hard so she wouldn't reach for her hip again. Her grip was surprisingly strong, and Clove now understood why Cato wasn't able to get out of Brutus' hold.

'We know you have you personal problems, but I don't want _any_ of that to interfere with your Games, or your alliance today,' she said firmly, with a hint of irritation.

Clove and Cato's mouths opened in protest but she held up her hand and cut them off. 'You know _perfectly_ well by now that the first day of the Games is the most important. You _know_ that. You're from District Two for fucks sake,' she ran her hand through her hair, and it was the first time the pair had heard her swear. 'I'm not having any of your personal problems, I repeat, _any_ of your personal problems_,_ interfering with today, alright?'

'You don't understand what the fuck that dick just said to me!' Clove burst out, pointing to an unamused Cato. 'You _don't understand_! How the _fuck_ can you tell us not to involve our personal problems when he involved my _brother_!'

Her rage that had started from Katniss had now turned to Lyme, but she didn't blink as her gaze turned to Clove. Cato had a similar expression as his District partner, but Clove's outburst had seemed to say it all.

Lyme's expression was hard.

'I don't know what happened to your brother, and frankly, I don't care,' Clove's eyes blazed furiously. 'Don't push your luck just because we haven't hurt you yet. We're not here to help you; we're here to _train_ you. We've won the Games before; you haven't. Do you know what that means, or do I have to spell it all out for you?'

Clove gritted her teeth as Lyme looked down at her. Whatever she said, how much she protested, Lyme wasn't going to change her mind. She had everything set up in her brain, and how everything was going to function.

And Clove hated it, but she was also right. These two were mentors for a reason; a very good reason. They had experienced the gruesome killing, the backstabbing, the physical and mental pain in the Games, and they had won, over the bodies of twenty-three other tributes. They knew what would come to your advantage and what wouldn't.

They had also won by being in an alliance. Without it, they would've been killed at the bloodbath.

Clove shouted loudly and turned her head, but seeing as there were no words of protest, Lyme took that as a satisfactory answer. She looked at Cato to see if he had anything to say, but he had crossed his arms and was looking at Clove.

Lyme paused as if thinking of something to say, but shook it off and looked at Brutus. He nodded.

'Well hurry up and get down there,' he snapped. 'The Games are starting soon. Better get to your stylists quickly, and let them make you pretty. It's the first day after all. You want to make some good impressions right?'


	12. The Hunger Games

_Sixty-seconds_.

The words boomed from the speakers as Clove rose on her podium. She was quick to look around and let the scene sink in.

It was a forest. The place they were standing was completely flat and grassy, and was surrounded by hundreds and hundreds of trees. She could see the Cornucopia gleaming in the blazing sunlight with a stack of bags in front of it.

There was going to be a bloodbath; Clove was sure of that, and nearly half of the tributes were going to die here.

_Forty-seconds_.

Her eyes traveled to the weapons without hesitation. They locked onto her weapon instantly, and she smiled. She hoped the camera was getting her face; it was a vicious smile splitting across her face. She could feel it. And she knew the crowd was going to love it.

She was about to enter a Game where twenty-three out of twenty-four people were going to die, and she was _smiling_. Oh what an impression that would make. She could see the other tributes expressions plastered with fear as the speaker continued to count down.

_Twenty-seconds_.

Her gaze drifted sideways, and she caught her District partner standing with a hint of a smile on his face. Of course Cato was smiling. They were ridiculously alike; if Clove was enjoying it, there was no way Cato wasn't.

_Ten-seconds._

As if sensing that she was watching him, Cato's neck turned to the left. Their gazes locked together for what seemed like one too many times, and he grinned.

Just this time, Clove couldn't help grinning back.

_Zero._

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**SO AT LAST AT LONG LAST THE GAMES HAVE STARTED!**

**I'm writing up the next chapter now and it's already so fun to write! :D I'm just on a roll with my chapters these days. I'm busy this weekend so the next chapter won't be coming to soon, but I should be able to update during next week :)**

**Thanks for reading, and once again thank you always, for your fabulous reviews!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Ok I was way busier than I thought I was so I sincerely apologize to anybody who was hoping for a chapter last week. I think just, maybe I shouldn't say anything about updating because I never actually do what I say I'm going to do.**

**I'm really sorry. Really, I am.**

**Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, nor is the idea of The Hunger Games.**

* * *

Clove was off like a rocket. Cato instantly sided with her as they skidded to a halt in front of the bags. She grabbed the knives as Cato grasped his sword. Judging from the speed he retrieved them, there was no doubt that he had already been eying them.

She clasped the clip of the knife holder to her hip and quickly ducked down. Cato's sword came flying over where her head had been, and she heard a loud _thwack_, as a body fell to the ground beside her, twitching while blood poured from the side.

Clove had no time to acknowledge who it was, as she caught sight of a brown braid whirling around with a frightened expression on her face. She was fighting over a bag with a boy from District Nine, and it was evident that she wanted to quickly escape to the safety of the woods.

Clove's insides instantly boiled.

Katniss Everdeen.

The knife was flying before Clove could process her thoughts. It embedded into the boy's back, and he slid to the ground, blood pumping out of his back. Katniss made a horrified expression before darting her eyes upwards.

Their eyes locked.

Clove threw her knife without hesitation, determined for it to hit Katniss in the chest, but not in a fatal place. Oh, her death was going to be slow and painful. Clove was going to tear her skin off her face and cut of her fingers one by one. She wasn't going to die easily. She was going to endure so much pain that she would _want _to die.

Clove was prepared to throw another one to slow her down more, but stopped when Katniss raised her bag and the knife stabbed into it, preventing it from reaching her. It was an act on impulse, but still made Clove's fury boil over. How dare she retrieve _her_ knife without being _killed?_

She thrust the knife furiously into the air to throw again, but was distracted by the sound of someone behind her. She whirled around to come face to face with a girl with a terrified expression, and the knife penetrated her head without hesitation. The girl made a sound like a dying frog, before dropping to the ground. Clove quickly turned back around, but along with the other tributes, Katniss had disappeared.

She locked her jaw and glared at the now dead girl on the ground.

'Well wasn't _that_ fucking good timing, huh?' she shouted at her. 'You made me miss out on my _fucking_ prey! Should've made _your_ death more entertaining shouldn't have I?'

She kicked the body furiously before raising her eyes to look around.

There were at least ten bodies on the ground; blood still pouring out of their wounds with hollow eyes and their last horrified expressions glued to their faces. Cato had seated himself down on a food supply box examining his blood-covered knife, as Marvel and Glimmer sat opposite each other talking about what seemed like nothing important. But she saw the girl from Four, Aquina her name was, who was just standing there, looking down at a body.

Clove wiped the blood from her face and approached the group, still keeping her eye on Aquina. Cato looked up and seemed to examine her for a moment, before twitching the corner of his lips upwards. She gave him a glare that was now beginning to seem more like a greeting, and sat down with her back against the Cornucopia. Her eyes glanced to the right, and this time she saw whom Aquina was standing over.

He had a large gash down his face and chest, and his sea-green eyes were still wide open from the shock of getting killed. Even so, Clove could recognize him as being the boy from Four, Aquina's District partner.

She looked up at Aquina's face. She could have easily been looking at a dead bird with her impassive and unemotional expression, but the same sea-green eyes as her partner held a hint of sadness.

'He was never fit for fighting,' she whispered to no one in particular and gave him a long look before picking up her weapon from the ground.

Instinctively, Clove's gaze followed her hand and examined the weapon. It looked like a pole, with a tip like a spear and a rubber loop at the other end. She had never seen one, but she had heard of it, and imagined it was what was called a pole spear; something that only District Four citizens would ever use. She was surprised to see a fishing weapon in this arena, as unless you were really able to impress the Gamemakers, they would never include a weapon that only specific people could use. Even the Careers from Four were aware of that fact, and they were usually trained to use more common weapons that were more likely to be found in the arena.

This pole spear was definitely placed here for Aquina to use, as she was the only one who could possibly use it apart from her District partner. That only meant that she must have impressed the Gamemakers a great deal. Clove hadn't paid attention to her score, but pondered on whether she should have.

After all, District Four wasn't a Career District for nothing.

'So, what are our plans?'

Clove snapped out of her thoughts by the voice of Glimmer.

She looked back at her with a scowl on her face. She still disliked Glimmer a lot, despite the fact that she hadn't necessarily done anything to her. She reminded her too much of Sera, and that was enough of a reason.

'Well, we don't need to worry about food,' Cato said, examining his sword. 'So I suppose we'll just hunt around for people. In turns.'

Glimmer groaned to his response and played with the bow in her hands.

'Why can't we just all move together? Having to wait is so _boring_,' she moaned, and Clove couldn't help but to agree with her.

'What's the point in going in turns?' She nearly spat. 'If we're going to kill, it'll be easier if there's more of us.'

Cato looked at her irritably.

'Think before you speak, midget,' he hissed, which only caused Clove to rise from her spot angrily. 'With all this fucking food, we'll never know when someone might come to steal it. We're going in turns, because we're always going to need someone to stay on the lookout. Is that clear enough for you to understand?'

Clove pulled the knife out with so much force she could have ripped the case. But before she could do anything, Marvel thrust his hands into the air exasperatedly.

'Can you two just cut it _out_ with the hostility already? Even during training you did _nothing_ but rip out each other's throats _every_ chance you got, and it's going to be _fucking_ annoying to have to put up with,' he said, with a frustrated stab to the ground.

Glimmer smiled as Clove and Cato instantly gave him a deadly glare.

'Already wanting to die are you?' Cato asked, his eyes blazing.

Marvel looked back at him boringly. 'Why don't you give it a go?'

Cato growled, and his sword was thrust in the air as Marvel swiftly stood up and grabbed his weapon. The sword came crashing down on the spear without hesitation, and Marvel quickly backed away a few steps before pulling out his spear and stabbing it at Cato. It was deflected easily, but he staggered slightly giving Marvel an opportunity to stab at him again.

He had just pulled back his spear to throw, when something came flying and wedged itself into the ground right between the two.

Clove, who was enjoying the show, looked up, as did Glimmer, and Cato and Marvel whirled around to see whoever the hell it was that interrupted their battle.

Aquina was glaring at the lot of them, as she professionally pulled back her pole spear that had dug into the ground.

'Would you all just _stop_?' she snarled, catching her weapon in her hand. 'You're making us all look like a pack of impatient _idiots_ who can't even contain their temper for the first _hour_ of the Games. Our priority is to kill off everyone else in this arena; not try to kill each other off because of a fucking _insult_. You're all _ridiculous_.'

She stabbed her spear in the ground again, before slinging her bag over her shoulder. She looked at each of the Careers before heading to the woods, pulling her weapon behind her.

'I'm going to go hunt. I'll be back in half and hour, so I'm _not_ going to stay here and have to put up with your shit,' she shouted over her shoulder angrily, and disappeared into the woods.

The rest of the Careers just stood there, dumbfounded by the outburst from an unexpected figure. Frankly, none of them had paid much attention to her and her partner and had already acknowledged them as weaklings who were going to be killed off first. But Aquina obviously had a lot more guts than they had thought, and was definitely just as strong as them with her weapon.

Glimmer was the first to break the silence, as she let out a laugh.

'Oh God, oh my God, that was _pure_ gold,' she said in between laughs.

Clove couldn't help it as the corners of her mouth twitched up as well.

'What's even funnier is that she's probably right,' she said, placing her knife that she was playing with, back into the holder.

That comment caused Glimmer to start laughing even more, and the two male tributes just glared at each other and than Clove.

'Shut the fuck up, Glimmer,' Marvel spat as he threw his spear to the ground, but Glimmer only covered her mouth and didn't stop the laughter that escaped.

Cato slashed his sword against one of the bodies on the ground that had still not been collected, and angrily kicked over one of the food supply boxes.

'This alliance was a fucking fail,' he growled.

'Yeah, that's one thing that you're right about,' Marvel replied with a huff, that just made Clove snort.

'Shut it, One,' Cato snarled in return. 'I don't need any of your fucking snarky remarks alright? As much as I hate your fucking guts, if were going to stay in the Games, we might as well learn to co-exist.'

That just made Clove snort louder. 'You don't co-exist with anyone, Cato. Because anybody who tries, gets killed before explaining what their doing there.'

That received an angry look from Cato.

'It would be helpful if _you_ shut up too, midget,' he said. 'Frankly, you're getting on my nerves a lot more these days.'

'Oh? And I wonder who's fucking fault that is?' she replied innocently.

She looked at him straight at the eye, daring him to make a move. Daring him to show his short temper and try to kill her. After what Aquina had just said to them, the viewers would be dying to know how they would act. Considering that she was quite right about what she said, it would make them even more curious.

Though the fury was evident in his eyes, Cato looked away. It was smart thinking on his part; sponsors would certainly praise him for that patience. After all, sponsors may be there for you at the start of the Games, but if you didn't live up to their expectations, they would slowly drift away. Nobody wanted to risk their money on a tribute that wouldn't win.

Clove wanted to taunt Cato a little bit more. Surely he would snap if she nudged at him just a fraction. After all, despite his smartness and quick thinking, he was extremely bad at controlling his temper. The number of bones he broke in the training centres, just because somebody insulted him, were unknown at this point as there were just too many. Killing was never tolerated in training, but grazing or hurting, as well as breaking bones was never considered as much of an issue. In fact, all of the mentors, even Taron, didn't even bat an eyelash when Cato smashed a boy's arm in half because he had taken his sword. He was _that_ bad at controlling his temper. Just a small prod and he would go off like a bomb.

But Clove stopped her thoughts when rustling was heard within the bushes. Definitely coming their way.

Instantly everyone grabbed their weapons. The atmosphere changed dramatically, as they all stared intently at the rustling leaves. Clove raised her knife in the air so she was ready to throw it at whoever it was.

'Calm down guys, it's me,' the familiar voice rang out, and the Careers lowered their weapons irritably.

Aquina staggered out into the open, and Clove raised her eyebrows as she saw red liquid plastered to the tip of her weapon. But her expression changed to pure shock, when Aquina pulled someone else out behind her.

'What the _fuck_?' Cato bellowed beside them, and Glimmer and Marvel just stood there with their mouths hanging open.

As standing there, with cuts and grazes on his face with an annoyed expression, was none other than the male tribute of District Twelve.

Peeta Mellark.

* * *

**I'm actually still not so sure how to fit Peeta into all of this. How did he get with the Careers in the book again? God I don't remember and I thought I had thoroughly read through that series.**

**Oh, while we're on that topic, this story isn't going to be exactly the same as the book, so there will be slight alterations. Most of it should be the same, though. Depends on what other wacky ideas I come up with.**

**Also, I'm sure you've already noticed, but I spell words like 'favourite' and 'behaiviour' with a 'u' because er that's the British way and NZ speaks you know, British English. There are also other small things that are spelled differently because of where I live so just telling you so you don't think their mistakes and be like 'Why the hell does she have a 'u' in behavior? Is she stupid?' **

**Jokes. You're much too nice to say things like that. ...Well I hope you are.**

**Anyway, thanks again for the lovely reviews! Sorry I haven't replied to all of you yet, I will get onto that ASAP. But right now I shall get some sleep :)**

**Sorry this got so long and thanks for reading!**


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